Dreamcatcher
by AinSoph
Summary: What happens in the years after the takedown of Umbrella? The story follows Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield as they try to live new and normal lives, but of course - things can always change. mature content.
1. Just Breathe

Disclaimer: **Resident Evil is property of CAPCOM**.

**1**

Blue eyes remain awake in the night -restless, staring up into the darkness that filled the room. The silver gaze of the moon peaked into the curtained window, acting as the only source of light. It cast an unpretentious pearl glow onto the flat surface of the mattress. The bedspread acted as the canvas; shadows of the panes and thick tree branches from the outside cascaded onto the beautiful designs of the crocheted fabric.

Ill at ease… Jill Valentine lay still, next to her husband- the beloved Chris Redfield. Her eyes traced the angles of his face as he continued his slumber.

_Dammit_. she thought to herself, looking away.

_Insomnia's a bitch_. She continued.

Jill turned over onto her side, her eyes glaring at the clock that sat next to her on the night table.

'3:01 am' was displayed in bright red laser like characters.

"Shit." She said to herself while turning her body out of the bed. Her legs hung over the frame in a childlike manner due to its distance from the floor.

"Mmm what's the matter babe?" Chris' voice didn't sound as robust as it normally did instead it was masked by the scratchy sound of exhaustion.

"Can't sleep." She said behind a frustrated sigh. She lifted her body from the bed and began walking towards the master bathroom.

"That's too bad." He said, between a yawn. She smiled faintly.

"Where are you going?" Chris asked; his face slightly buried into the pillow.

"To take a leak…if that's alright with you." She said behind a clever laugh- the type that one would give a comedian who was far from comical.

"Nice…" he said before closing his eyes.

She showed the habitual interest of joking around like she always did whenever he acted with sarcasm. However tonight it was merely a mask of how she truly felt. As bad as she wanted to lash out…she held it in.

After she took care of her personal duties Jill exited the room, walking the invisible path that lead down to the rest of the massive house.

She looked around at the familiar setting that she had grown to love; her eyes instinctively studying each painting on the wall- looking at them as if this had been her first time seeing them all. She then looked into the empty guest room that sat adjacent to the master bedroom she and Chris shared.

She entered the room; her eyes met the window that sat high above the queen bed on the eastern wall of the room. The bed sheets had been untouched- they held a stiffness that made it evident of its deprivation of human contact. She ran her hand along the softness of the covers, finally stopping at the pillows that sat at the head. There were three in total: two big ones and one smaller one. The rest of the room was quite simple- it had a bookshelf, desk, and a loveseat. What she liked most about the room was the window that was perched next to the desk; it was the only one in the entire house to have a ledge large enough to sit in. It overlooked the backyard and swimming hole that Chris so feverishly made possible for the family to enjoy on the warm summer days they often had.

She often used the room as a personal study; a place she felt was the most quiet and away from the chaos of the society. Many of her best articles, she believed, where either thought up or written here. It was the second room in the house Jill paid great attention to.

She exited.

She made a soft right towards the long carpeted staircase that lead to the ground level of the house, suddenly she paused once she reached the bottom- her eyes glaring up at the beautiful stained glass window that set elegantly above the front door. The image always caught her attention each time she had crossed it. It illustrated cherry blossoms through a soft glow of pastel pinks, whites, greens, browns, and soft oranges. One of the many aspects she adored.

Jill continued on her trek through the living room passing the bedroom of Lauren- the nine-year-old daughter to the Redfield union. She peaked into the purple paradise and watched as the girl slept, wrapped tightly under the covers. She walked into the room nodding her head in minor disappointment at the mess she scolded the girl about earlier that evening.

Jill fixed the covers before kissing her on the cheek.

"Sleep tight sweetheart." She whispered into the child's ear.

She entered the kitchen. The sight of stacked dirty dishes stopped her dead in her tracks; quite frankly it was a sight that always aggravated her.

"Dammit Chris!" she thought to herself.

She began to manually wash the dishes; the chore she hated to do but always appreciated after she had finished. She hated the fact that it was only she who ever thought to care about the cleanliness of the house. She hoped for more help from the fellow occupants, especially her husband but had to accept the fact that it would never happen.

She finally completed the task.

"Sweet Jesus!" Jill screamed while her hand landed quickly over her chest as if her heart had called it there.

"Did I scare ya?" Chris asked in a husky voice, his hand firmly pressed against her stomach.

"Yeah you did!"

"Are you ok?" He asked while gently patting her bottom. She didn't respond verbally, instead with the sound of water washing over the plate she held in her hand.

"Why are you up at 3:30 washing dishes when you can be in bed with me?" He asked directly into her ear with his arms still wrapped around her.

She continued to wash.

"You know how…excited I am right now?" his voice felt like one hundred tiny little needles sticking into her spine.

"I told you…I couldn't sleep." She said while staring down at the mirror image of the both of them as it reflected off of the surface of the water through the visible paths between the dishes.

"God your skin's so soft." He said while running his hand up her arms and then up to her shoulders where he moved them back down her arms.

"Chris…" she said in an orgasmic whisper.

The sheer feeling of his touch made her thoughts wonder about. He ignored her entirely and continued running his hands over the places he had missed most. His hands found their way to her torso; the warm hand followed the trail on her stomach until it reached the barrier that was her pants.

"Chris…"

He said nothing instead he continued running his hand along her inner thighs hoping to meet her arousal.

"I miss it Jill…I miss how it feels to be inside of you." he whispered into her ear once more.

She hung her head low at the disparate feelings that had already began to eat away at her weakening conscience, causing her to fall victim to the wondering thoughts of suspicion. Betrayal was a feeling Jill had hoped to never experience again yet unbeknownst to her, she began to become susceptible to it. Prior to the evening, it had been almost a solid 5 months that Chris had been away; she would easily admit to the morbid depression she often felt from missing her husband each night. It was something that Jill didn't find easy, that is admitting defeat- in any way.

She closed her eyes as Chris began to plant soft kisses onto the elegant curve at the back of her neck. His hand cupped the left round of her breast beneath the black lace bra squeezing it gently, catching the orgasmic gasp that expanded her chest.

Suddenly that hidden feeling of anger briefly went away and she began to give in to his touch. A touch she had longed to feel again.

She could feel his hard body pressed against her with his arms wrapped firmly around her tired frame- she had become use to feeling it. Now she felt as though it was the first time he had done it- as if he were merely a stranger doing it.

Jill hated to admit it but she was beginning to feel as though she didn't recognize him, as if she truly didn't know him.

She even told herself that he was a person she would never care about again.

And to her, that was the most shameful feeling she could ever think to feel towards him, she felt it more tonight than she had three months ago, when she said it.

She closed her eyes at the unpleasant feeling of her heart breaking all over again- a feeling she loathed ever since the day she convinced herself he wasn't coming back. It was as if all the love she had for him had been drained out of it at that moment.

Instead its absence had been replaced by anger, exhaustion, and grief.

"You're so tense…" Chris said while placing his masculine hands back onto her tight shoulders. The muscles felt tougher than leather- they were really stiff and hard to loosen up. He moved his thumbs and fingers in small circular motions on the tense spots, grabbing and pinching the flesh in a relaxing manner. Jill adjusted her neck and shoulders to the calming sensation although she was far from relaxed.

It was that touch that used to make her go weak at the knees and other places far and between now it only fed to the confusion.

She questioned her marriage more this evening than she had any other night while Chris was away- not of where he left or when…but mostly why? Secrets were something that they had vowed to eliminate both from their subconscious and their relationship- but along with everything else, things could easily change- or maybe it was that they never did. The part of her that wanted to hate him wouldn't let her bypass the underlying want and need she had for him. She had the hardest time admitting that to herself.

That's when it hit her.

She felt his lips brush the warm skin at the side of her neck once again. This time attacking the spot that he grew to love after discovering the reaction he'd get from her.

The slightest touch to it almost always made her quiver.

"Come back to bed with me Valentine…" he whispered into her ear- the remote authority in his voice caught her off guard yet it innately made her respond.

She hated being left alone especially without notice of any kind. Something she had dealt with ever since she was a child. Her true feelings were hidden behind a look of pure ecstasy; hiding from him as well as others what truly was happening to her mind- pure punditry.

Chris slid his hand downward until he reached another barrier; he took no time in invading the space hidden beneath cotton lounge pants and satin panties. She could feel his arousal on her backside as he continued his exploration. Her head found it's place upon his shoulder, her lips found their place upon his, and the love that she almost let go of found itself back in its rightful place at that moment.

His hands groped the soft flesh below her stomach.

"I missed you…" he whispered once again.

Here eyes shot open at the words and her head lifted itself from its resting place. A simple question burned the back of her mind like a fresh coal to fire- the heat that already began to simmer flared back into her bloodstream.

'Then why did you leave?' The question was hot at the end of her tongue.

The moment was suddenly broken by the sound of labored coughing coming from the neighboring room.

"Chris…" Jill said while turning her head so that her eyes looked out of the kitchen door towards the sound. He ignored her and continued to cover the middle of her back with kisses.

"Chris…Lauren needs her medicine." She managed to break away from his strong embrace. She quickly walked into the small pantry that sat within the kitchen adjacent to the entrance; the shelves were all lined with various canned foods, boxed goods, and medication bottles.

"I'm coming sweetheart." She said while grabbing the small nebulizer.

"Calm down." Chris said as he settled his body onto the bed next to her. He lifted the child's small frame into his arms and held her close to his chest; his hand hovered over her rapidly beating heart. She tightly clenched the fabric on the leg of his sweat pants with a shaky hand.

"Breathe with daddy Lauren…just breathe."

Her nerves had already begun to calm down however her breathing was still staggered.

"O.k. here it is Lauren." Jill said while giving the girl the small device.

After about three seconds she began to breathe normally.

"Good girl." Jill said. The girl's body relaxed.

"Alright… I'm going back to bed now." Chris spoke behind a faint yawn.

He kissed his beloved daughter on her cheek and tucked her back into bed. "Goodnight ladybug- don't scare me like that…" he spoke softly yet his voice held masculinity that showed he meant it.

"Hey Mommy?" Lauren said while pulling on Jill's pajama pants from the comfortable perch of her bed.

"Yeah?"

"What took you guys so long?" she said behind an evil snicker.

"Good night scarlet." Jill said with a smile on her face. She walked out of the child's room with the same racing heartbeat she had when she entered. That horrid sense of reality hit her again- that is the undeniable truth that death could be around anyone's corner. She hated thinking about it.

"God Chris, it's getting worse…I know it." Jill said while the both of them stood at the bottom of the main foyer staircase.

His arms took no time in holding her exhausted body. She sighed into his shoulder before taking in his scent. His lips brushed the softness of her scalp beneath the follicles of her brown hair. The soft smell of Pear escaped from the silky strands that brushed the lower portion of his face.

"Yeah I know…but I'm sure she'll be fine. She has your courage and my strength." Chris said while squeezing her closer to his body. "And besides…we're aren't doctors." He continued.

Jill pushed her face hard into his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around him as if he were a post for support. In all he was- he had always been her support. He was always there to pick her up whenever others had let her down. And she the same for him.

She inhaled the stale conditioned air that filled the estate and her head rose to meet the eyes of her husband's.

"Yeah, I hope you're right."

"Jill, she's gonna be fine." He reassured.

She looked into his eyes and saw that they were full of indomitable hope- like they always were. It was apparent, although he had been gone for some time nothing about him had changed. He was still that symbol of strength and support for her; he was still the man she had grown to love and trust more than anything.

He placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted her head higher, Jill awaited the warm sensation of his lips pressed softly against her own.

His mouth settled onto hers in a soft clash of serenity. He held her close to him, tightly. Enveloping her with his warmth.

She looked into his eyes once again, still holding him in the previous embrace.

"Let's go back to bed…" Jill said while walking before him.


	2. The Weakened Oath

**2**

"Hey Jill, have you seen my tie?"

"You mean the one I gave you for your birthday Daddy?" Lauren asked with an utter look of obnoxiousness on her face. He nodded.

"It should be upstairs with the other four thousand you already have." Jill said-sarcasm.

"I checked…it's not in there…" he said. He looked down at his watch and noticed that he had been pressing for time.

"Goddammit I'm gonna be late!" he said while continuing his search for the important article, he had ran what would've been equivalent to a 12K marathon up and down the stairs.

"Just choose another one…no sense in wasting this much time trying to find one lousy tie…" Jill said while following him back up the stairs. "Seriously hun…you've been up here at least ten times in the past thirty minutes." She finished.

"It's the only one I can wear with this suit." His eyes were focused yet again on the closet he had already visited nearly a dozen times.

The suit was made of fine Italian fabric- dyed the darkest of blacks. It was his favorite and secretly that of Jill too. He wore it with a pride similar to that whenever he wore a badge.

"What's so special about it?"

"I wore it to the interview-"

"Oh so let me guess- it got you the job right?"

"I think its safe to say that yeah." he said from inside of the closet to Jill who stood outside.

"I guess this one will have to do." he said with minor disappointment. He emerged from the closet, his clothes still undone with a solid black tie hanging around his neck.

"Here let me help you." She laughed as she tucked his shirt into his unbuttoned pants.

He completed the job on his tie before giving Jill a kiss on the cheek.

"No…I don't think it's the tie that got you the job." she grabbed his lips with her own.

"So what do you think it was?" he asked before responding in the same manner.

"You're very charming my dear." She said behind a sinister smile.

"Now you're really gonna make me late…" he said.

Jill smiled at the comment while Chris laid her down to her back unto the bed.

"Here it is Daddy!" The young lass ran up to her father holding the silver/black tie with pride. Its shapes were of parallel diagonal lines, with the silver bands being the thickest and the black bands being narrower.

"It's pretty- I really like this one too." Lauren said from the doorway of the bedroom.

Chris arose from atop of Jill; a smile crept on his face at Lauren who had found the tie in a matter of fifteen minutes compared to his full morning search.

"Thanks sweetie…" Chris said while kissing his young daughter on the cheek.

He removed the old tie.

"Where'd you find it?" he asked.

"It was on the chair in the kitchen underneath your jacket." She responded.

Jill looked at him with mocking eyes.

"Don't say it Jill…" he said behind a small grin.

"What…that I was right when I said that your head is spinning?"

He kissed her forehead.

"I love you." He said. "And you too." He said while lifting Lauren into his arms to give her peck on the cheek.

"You look great." Jill said with sincerity- the kind one holds while telling the honest truth.

"Thank you," he said before going into her for another kiss.

She smiled once more.

"I think you should get going- you're already running late." She said.

"Yeah…I'll see you ladies tonight." He said while grabbing his jacket. Hey kissed the both of them once more.

"Bye Daddy." Lauren yelled out to him as he exited the home.

They both stood by the door waving; Lauren who merely stood as tall as Jill's hip held an ego that reached lengths higher than even the K2. She was a strikingly pretty young girl- the innocence within her big hazel eyes made it known that the world had not yet been fully seen by them. Her hair was short, cut just at her jaw line and cascaded upon her face in layers- it was a small look of sophistication Jill had thought looked perfect for Lauren. Her personality matched that of her father, Chris- who thrived on nothing more than sarcasm, making her almost his twin.

"Now all that's left is getting you to school on time…let's not miss the bus today ok." She said to Lauren who had already made a dash for the kitchen to finish what was left of her cereal.

"C'mon…don't worry there will still be more Lucky Charms when you get back today." Jill said while grabbing Lauren's small Sailor Moon Lunch box that she had gotten from their trip to Chinatown.

"Here you are Scarlet…and don't forget your medicine." Jill said while sitting Lauren's things on a small oak table next to the door.

"O.k. mommy I got it."

"Alright now c'mon the bus is waiting for you." Jill said while opening the door.

"Have a good day sweetheart!" Jill yelled out the door and watched her little daughter board the school bus.

"O.k. it's finally just you and me pup." Jill said to the family's aging Great Dane, Babe.

"I don't have to be at work for two hours…so let's see what I'm gonna wear shall we?" Jill said to the dog that sat peacefully on their bed.

She came out of the massive closet with two summer dresses; one was black with white dotted patterns covering it and the other was a solid yellow number. Both were made of light fabric and were designed to hug feminine curves.

"O.k. which one do you think?" she asked him while holding the two dresses out.

He barked after the first selection.

"Yeah I like this one too." She said.

After a relatively short shower she dressed, took everything she had needed for the day and headed out the door- after kissing Babe on the crown. She had about and hour and half to waste so she decided to go to her habitual morning stop- Café Bach- her most liked place to relax before or usually after a mentally draining day at work. She spent the passing forty-five minutes drifting off into thought about the dramatic change in her life that spanned over nine years.

After the final days of Umbrella, Jill and Chris sought for a life of simplicity and safety- they headed west and decided to start their lives anew, from scratch- leaving behind the horrific events they had both fought to the depths to escape. Jill decided to pursue a career as a writer- her newfound goal being to write a book about the corruption in major and powerful organizations that are undoubtedly in control of the social society they were manufactured in. She got hired as a local journalist of the small town newspaper; where in most of her articles she slammed politics for their inability to respect and uphold the very laws and justices they had promised. She became well known and respected by many people in the town for her liberal and oftentimes candid opinions and factual truths against the government. With the exception of the few individuals that got along by giving her the title "the rambling conspiracist".

Chris began a career as a stock broker- a position completely different from what he had been used to. He figured this position would keep he and his family out of danger and out of the spotlight. Although the money was a lot better and the main source of the family's wealth- he vowed never to forget the basic rules of survival.

After a lengthy drive into the city, Jill arrived at the small café. She exited the vehicle before slowly walking towards the entrance.

She entered and was instantly overwhelmed by the meaty smell of freshly brewed coffee and calmed by the sultry sounds of Norah Jones.

It was a modest and small place, filled with vintage artwork and furniture. It had almost an organic feel to it- as if it had naturally been this way. To the right of the entrance sat a massive fish tank that had been filled with exotic saltwater aquatics. It looked as if the management had spent more time on it than the rest of the place. To the left of the entrance and a few feet forward stood the long countertop. Cash register, baked goods, bottled drinks, and periodicals lined the chromed finish, spanning all the way down to the end.

A man of stocky build stood awaiting the first customer's approach to the counter. His face held a pride much too great for his title of work. Yet it was as if it did not matter to him. He had to have been in his middle ages judging by the mild lines of maturity that sat at the corners of his eyes. He watched as she walked closer towards the counter, his eyes briefly studied her physique without her notice.

"Hey Jill…I didn't recognize you at first. How are you?" He said to her.

"Hey Bob, I'm good and yourself?" she said behind a warm smile.

"Never been better. What can I get started for you?" he asked with politeness.

She paused for a minute looking at the menu that sat high on the rear wall behind the counter. It was handwritten with multi-colored chalk, flamboyantly displaying the options to choose from. It ranged from coffees, espressos, teas, freshly baked pastries, soups, and Panini.

"I think I'll do a Chai Latte."

"Good choice" Bob proceeded into fixing the beverage.

"So how is the latest one coming?" he continued without warning.

"Pardon me?" she responded.

"The article…the most recent one. You are writing another one right?"

"Oh the article. Are you talking about the one on a more efficient highway structure?"

"No…I meant the one about modern diseases…aren't you writing a response to it?"

"Umm…yeah." She fibbed. It wasn't entirely her most recent, or famous - but she admired the fact that he still found it intriguing.

Jill hesitated at first to reexamine a part of her life she had left in the past. It was blatantly a topic that she had gotten stuck with. To her surprise the article had gotten far more acclaim than she had thought and hoped for. It mostly discussed the issue with diseases and the main causes of them. The primary target of interest being pharmaceutical companies. It was the breaking point of her career- the point where she had become loved and respected by many, and shunned by few.

"You really should. It was a very interesting piece I loved every minute of it. Especially how you grilled that asshole of a scientist, Bryce Morris. It was great." He admired.

"Thanks…I'll definitely look into it."

She briefly thought back to the day she sat down to interview the man he had spoke of.

Dr. Bryce Morris was none other than a modern day prodigy. He is well known for his major contribution to research in molecular theory. He is also the founder of SAAS- Scientists Against an Alternative Society- meaning he opposed the use of alternative 'anything' especially medicine. He first started SAAS after hearing of numerous accusations towards pharmaceutical companies and their involvement with medicinal deaths worldwide. Which gave him the popular title, 'The Savior of Conventional Medicine'- he literally saved the pharmaceutical companies from declining.

He created the group during his time as professor of cognitive science at the University of California, Berkley, where he became appointed as head of the science department all-together. He received a Masters as well as a PhD from the University of California, San Diego. His work in the organization is known by his colleagues as the 'gateway into more effective conventional drug studies' the entire aspect on why The Umbrella Corporation existed; in which he secretly laundered ideas, information, etc to scientist employed to the corporation before it fell.

Now he blatantly denies any cooperation with them.

The thing she sometimes hated most about her job were the interviews, especially when they involved people who were given the power to control the wheels of the world.

She hated every second of the interview with Dr. Morris. In a follow-up article she mentioned him as being "knowingly obnoxious" and acting as if the public "weren't capable enough to understand the physics of the universe". What she detested most about him was his never-ending failure _not_ to mention his greatness; she was thoroughly convinced the man believed he was made of gold. He carried on bragging about his 'brilliant' work and how he was the only human on earth to truly understand the basis of existence. She felt a grave sense of corruption towards him as she did to many people like him. At each moment of the interview she bit her lip, refraining herself from speaking the fire she craved to scorch him with.

The peak of the interview involved the introduction of Jill's featured article: "The Solidified Truth About America's Health" She attacked him on every issue she felt needed to be addressed; purposely avoiding the discussion of the historical destruction of Raccoon City for reasons she always kept to herself. In knowing that she also realized just how big of an impact that argument would've had on the public if she had investigated it further than she had allowed herself.

"Ok here you are…a regular chai latte- made especially for the best artist I've ever known." His voice held an appreciation she hadn't heard in a while. It grabbed her attention.

"Ah…I'm no artist." She said while looking through her bag for her wallet.

"Yeah you are…you're a kickass writer…you express yourself- without care for criticism. And on top of that…you've crafted it into a career." He handed her the hot drink. " So not only are you kicking ass and taking names- you're making money in the process." He finished.

Jill smiled while placing the money onto the counter. She noticed his eyes meeting the wallet that sat ajar in her hand. She looked down and noticed the STARS identification card she had habitually kept in there.

His eyes scanned the small emblem next to the photograph she always complained of hating.

"Thanks." She said.

Her hand slammed the wallet closed with a force that could be heard even from a distance.

She walked away avoiding his curious eye.

The small image of the word '_STARS_' lingered throughout his thoughts. It had sounded familiar but he had a hard time configuring it. He examined it mentally without glaring at Jill, who had already made it to her seating. He couldn't remember the small article he had glanced over a few years prior, about the downfall of a distant town. He couldn't remember reading about the police department being wiped out due to their involvement with the tragic incidents that wiped the city from the face of the earth; or how a small unit barely made it's way to the top when it suddenly gotten dismantled and its members began to vanish. Or that the very woman he admired played an important role in that unit.

The average person who had read anything pertaining to that inciden only received partial truth about it; that being an intentional cover-up courtesy of the Umbrella Corporation. What they failed to apprise was the validity behind why the city declined and became destroyed thereafter; the country was left in utter shock and completely brainwashed. Little did the American people know the dark horrific secrets that escaped the town with the few survivors that barely had made it out; Jill and Chris being the mere few.

Jill settled into the rear corner of the bistro; her body descended into a large cushioned chair; it was violet and composed of fine velvet upolhestry. In front of it sat a small dark wooden table that could not be visible from the anterior of the place. She purposely sat in the position to avoid being spotted by Bob- whom she knew would find more interest in her than in the Sports section of the newspaper he had handled. She relaxed her body into the cushion of the chair, crossing one stockened leg over the other. She opened the novel she had started reading two months prior.

Her eyes studied the second page, they glanced over the title: The Interview with the Vampire. It was one of Anne Rice's best works.

Jill began reading it three months after Chris had left and continued reading it on and off throughout the time of his absence.

One would imagine a person who thoroughly reads a story to have the capability of explaining it thereafter. However this wasn't the case for Jill; although she had read the story previously she did not truly understand its meaning or nature. Her eyes scaled every word on each page, falsely gathering the information she thought she had a grasp of. The only thought that entered her mind during the time she read was none other than the matters that were at stake. She merely read it hopes that'll offer some kind of comfort.

"Carlos?" she could hear Bob greet an entering customer.

"Holy shit…I haven't seen you in ages bro!" his voice was loud and it caused Jill to glance up at the front of the café.

'Carlos…' she thought. The name sounded familiar- too familiar for her to disregard.

She turned her head towards the direction of the entrance- her eyes froze at the sight.

It was a person she hadn't seen in a while. Their eyes met at that point.

Jill quickly turned her body away so that he could not see her face.

It had already been to late.

He had spotted beauty from a mile away.

"Yeah...it's been too long my friend." The mysterious gentleman said. His eyes glanced over at the figure sitting at the very end of the café. He had recognized the frame. He smiled before walking. He stood at the entrance for quite some time before he began his investigation towards the back of the bistro.

She kept her eyes glued onto the pages of the book although she wasn't really reading it; her struggle to stay focus was a result of his footsteps growing closer. Each step increased the pace of her heart. A familiar hot feeling soon encased her body; it was a feeling she had never wanted to feel again after the first time - but allowed to happen for it to be a second and third time.

"Jill…" he spoke.

She closed her eyes at the sound of his exotic voice. Every nerve that had been working felt as if it had shut down at that moment. She turned her head at the striking view of him. The charming eyes, black hair, sultry accent, full lips and gorgeous figure, he was the same way she remembered him.

"I knew it was you…" he continued. She remained silent.

"How have you been?"

"…I…I've been good…how about you?" she asked.

"I'm better now that I get to see you again." The way he responded caught her off guard, it was as if he meant it in a way of it being an everyday thing.

She blushed while setting the book down to the coffee table in front of her.

"May I sit?" he asked politely.

"Sure…" she said hesitantly at first.

"So…why haven't you called me?" the question she fretted hearing from him.

She had hoped that he would ask her about anything else but that.

"…I've been really busy." she answered nervously.

"You haven't answered my calls either…I was beginning to worry about you." he spoke behind a cunning smile. It was too sexy to ignore. "No more visits…I was beginning to think that you had forgotten about me." He continued.

Jill looked at him with errant eyes. The last time she visited him she had made it a point to never go back- she ended it permanently. She had become a total different person after visiting him- a person who had fallen down the spiraling pit of disloyalty.

"I've been missing you- is all." His smile was beautiful yet sinister in its own rite.

She studied the warm panes of his face before dragging her eyes down to his chest- visualizing it through the cotton barrier of his shirt. For that brief moment she could remember her hands touching the soft muscles there and that of his abdomen. She shut her eyes at the memory.

"…What have you been up to?" he asked while going for the half full box of cigarettes he kept in a pocket on the inside of his jacket. He took one out of the box and lit the end of it.

"…Oh you know…the same- writing my life and dignity away." Jill answered scornfully.

Her eyes studied his hands, remembering what they felt like touching her skin and how they indubitably gave her goose bumps. The cool feeling swept her entire body from head to toe without warning or need of approval. She uncomfortably grabbed her drink and took a small sip. The liquid singed the first set of taste buds at the tip of her tongue- it was still piping hot but it did not bother her.

"You're a funny girl Valentine…it's a shame it's been so long." He said before exhaling the first mass of smoke.

Her embarrassment shot up at him in a glance that he could almost say was similar to that of a young child after being scolded for stealing. She looked as if she had been tormented- as if she had been forgotten, left in the dark to deal with her troubles by herself.

It was the same look that covered her face the first time he encountered her.

It was a look that told a man he was needed.

He licked his lips and took the matter as a repetitive invitation.

"So I see you're still reading that…" he pointed to the book with the cigarette lodged between his fingers.

His eyes were focused not on the book he spoke of but on the woman he had grown to care about during the two months prior to this date. It was those very two months that she had continuously slashed herself for allowing to happen.

Her eyes closed, forcing the tears to momentarily stay in their place.

She inhaled and turned her head so that he wouldn't see her torn condition.

"Yeah…I put it down for a while." She said while placing the novel back into her bag. "Haven't really felt like reading it…"

"It's funny," he said before taking another hit of the cigarette. It was a long obnoxious drag- the kind that old men take after a hard drink.

"What?"

"I thought you'd be done by now." His eyes met with hers-those imitimidating dark brown eyes, she felt as if they could see straight through her.

She could feel the hot glare moving up and down her body while fighting the indulgence of making him feel the same glare. She forced her eyes away from his.

'I thought you'd be done…and ready for another.' He thought to himself. 'Ready…for another night- spent with me…."

"Would you excuse me for a sec?" Jill raised her body from the seat; her dress adhered to her ageless form giving Carlos the chance to devour it with his eyes.

The heat began to escape the nearer she had gotten to the bathroom door. A sense of paranoia and suffocation had swept the air surrounding her, and although she escaped it for a brief set of minutes, it waited patiently for her to exit the bathroom.

She exhaled.

Her eyes stared back at her in the large beveled mirror that decorated the unembellished wall. The memories she had fought to suppress had begun to reawaken themselves- reintroducing confusion within her already frail subconscious. It was the ultimate feeling of betrayal- being betrayed by someone yet betraying that very same person. She hung her head low so that her face hovered above the bowl and away from her eyes.

A sigh of great grief escaped her mouth- shameful.

The valves of the sink were antique knobs made entirely of bronze that seemed as though royalty had touched them countless times. They were crafted with such beauty and skill that the average person would most likely be too ashamed to touch it after relieving themselves.

Her eyes examined them. The unusually smooth mirror-like surface shimmered beautifully and allowed for her to see a clear dwindled image of herself; symbolizing how she truly felt at the moment. Shrunken, like a balloon after deflation.

She raised her head to the sight of her own reflection once again- staring at the tired eyes, the soft lines of bitterness that trimmed the corners of her mouth, the smooth skin of her cheeks, and the chestnut brown strands of her hair. She hadn't seen herself in a while- at least her _true_ self, and this was yet another example of what she didn't see. The burning sensation of newly formed sadness began to form within her eyelids; she wanted nothing more than to just be left at this place- in this moment. Alone. Away from the world. From Carlos. And even from Chris.

She brought this upon herself…and she knew it.

She twisted one of the valves allowing the water to flow into the olive porcelain basin. Her hands cradled the water as it poured from the elegant faucet. Its hot sting didn't seem to bother her at all; it was oddly the only thing that felt normal to her at this moment. She opened her eyes and lowered her face closer to the sink and without further delay the hot water splashed onto her face. She sighed pleasantly.

Deep down inside she had hoped he'd be gone when she got back to the outside world however she also wanted him to be sitting there waiting for her like he normally would. Staring at her as if he were her master- as if she were to obey every command he had set. She had fallen victim to a fear she had loathed for a long time- that is to be controlled.

She paused before opening the door.

His eyes caught her attention with an abruptness similar to an explosion. They pierced her from the great distance from where she stood.

He watched her.

The soft silhouette of Jill's body painted a pleasant image in a maroon shade against the tawny light of the morning that shown softly through the large windows of the café. He traced the curvy lines of her hips with his eyes before running them down to her legs and then up to see the delicacy of her face. Although he couldn't quite see it's immaculate beauty in the low-lit room, he pictured the beautiful blue eyes, soft lips, and high cheeks.

He smiled at her blank facial expression.

"Are you ok, Belleza?" he asked.

Jill responded to the name by looking up at him as if it were the one she was given at birth. She remembered hearing him say it. She struggled to not give in and fall back into the hole she was finally managing to climb out of.

"Yeah…I'm alright." She said while relaxing into the chair.

"You just seem…tense." He said.

"I'm fine…really."

"Isn't this similar to when we first met?" he asked. "Only that time…I convinced you to come home with me." He smiled- cocky.

"That wasn't the first time we met." Jill snapped back in attempt to avoid falling into temptation.

"Oh?" he ashes the cigarette for its last time.

"When was our first time then?"

She remained silent hanging her head down so that her eyes set parallel to her revealed thighs. She was ashamed.

"…Don't worry- I haven't forgotten…" he said. He smashed the head of the cigarette into the bottom of the ashtray- extinguishing it along with the enticing moments spent with the woman he fancied.

"I'll see you later Valentine…" he said while standing from his seat.

She watched him rise.

"Give me a call sometime…" he smiled at her before bending down to kiss her. "I'll be in town for a few more days."

She accepted the fatal blow without a fight, it was something she couldn't control and she had a hard time trying to figure out why that was the case.

Jill had no problem with responding when it came down to taking control of a situation that was obviously reprehensible, but this one left her motionless- unable to even think. It was as if she had been waiting for him to do it the entire time they sat there. His lips were soft yet firm, and held a pride about them that let her know that he knew of this himself.

She briefly remembered feeling them everywhere, touching every inch of her body- hungrily. Leaving behind a hot trail of lust.

The thought tingled her insides to the point of numbness. She could remember feeling this way for the first time- in a long time. Her body craved to feel it once more.

She remained in the same position even after the kiss had broken. Her eyes watched the back of him as he walked away; they were expressionless, as if the kiss had taken everything out of her.

And it surely did.

1:30 pm

"Dammit…" Jill said to herself.

Her eyes were locked onto the screen before her. Her fingers appropriately positioned onto the keyboard, her leg restlessly moving from side to side- it was evident that her thoughts were overwhelming her.

_picking up Lauren on time from school _

_getting home to start dinner, _

_going to the grocery_ _to get the dinner, _

_meeting the deadline for the new article_…all forced by her own consent.

All to block out a list of thoughts she had hoped to never revisit.

Seeing _him_ again was the very first on that list.

Feeling those things towards _him_ was most likely the second.

Going back to _him_ was without a doubt the third.

"Goddammit." Her head rested on her hand- impatiently.

Her want for him had begun to intensify- the desire for him conquered all she had known to be pure until she was brought back to reality when Chris returned. When she had almost given in to her intuition- the want to be loved, adored, needed by someone, she was reminded that her heart had already been promised to another.

She swore to herself to never go back, to never see him again, to never feel those feelings towards him again.

Once again, it felt like she was losing herself. She closed her eyes and drifted into comatose.

"Jill?" the sudden voice burst out of the intercom on her desk.

"Jill…are you there?" it spoke once more.

She remained silent- her head still perched low onto her arm. She had been dreaming like a child- vividly. She could hear the footsteps in the distance of someone approaching her office doors. She sighed annoyingly and waited for them to enter.

The young girl knocked twice on the door before opening it.

"Jill…" she asked wearingly. She entered the large office. Her eyes looked around at the French inspired décor. There were three large windows that crowned the circular wall in the rear behind Jill's desk. Giving the room a prestigious feel similar to the oval office. On the walls hung numerous portraits of Lauren and Chris as well as a few of herself from vacations they sometimes took. Framed articles that were well accepted by critics also decorated the walls; they gave the office a small sense of pride. She made note of the two loveseats that sat on either side of the office close to the door giving the feeling of warmth and coziness. Her eyes then locked onto Jill.

She walked closer to the desk looking at the melancholic display set upon it.

Jill looked up at the sudden approach.

"Are you o.k.?" she asked.

"…yeah, just resting my eyes." Jill replied. "What did you need?" Her voice held a soft and tired scratch.

"Chris is here…did you want me to let him in?"

Jill's face flushed red at the unexpected visit; she was physically and mentally not ready to encounter him. Her body encased a heat that made her want to avoid him simply because it was a heat that was ignited by someone else.

She inhaled a deep breath of the stale air that succumb her office; the rich smell of fresh paint mixed with the pungent odor of mothballs.

_Note to self-get nag champa..._

"You can let him in," she said while sitting up straight into her chair. "Thanks Lynn…"

The young girl turned and nodded to assure Jill that it was simply her job.

Seconds later the door reopened revealing the familiar face she had hoped to see for the longest time but couldn't stand to see at this current moment. It was if she was morbidly excited but at the same time disappointed by his arrival.

She ironically chose to feel this way.

He stood in the doorway- his firm body kept the door ajar; he stared at her behind wide eyes and a zealous smile.

She could sense something exciting him beneath the facade.

"Guess what?" he shut the door behind him.

"What?" she responded as if it were a response to a joke.

"I got it…"

"Got what?"

He walked further into the office, slinging his jacket onto one of the French deco seats in front of her desk.

"The promotion…"

There was a brief silence that followed.

"Oh my God that's great!" her voice held a delight that was far from factual. She sounded as if she were forced to pretend; she was happy to hear of his accomplishment yet angry at his neglect to confront the problem that she believed was quite obvious.

"Yeah isn't it?" He walked even closer.

"So…what does this mean?"

"This means…" he spoke while walking around her desk. "…I take you out to dinner tonight…" He wrapped his arms around her nimble frame; and with the deepest of passion, he kissed her twitching lips.

He looked into her eyes and could see minor disappointment afterwards.

"What's the matter?" he asked concerned.

"Oh...nothing." she withdrew from the embrace. "I just kinda had dinner planned for us tonight."

"It can wait for another day…this is really important. Really life changing- for us. I want to talk to you about it more tonight…just you and me."

Jill stared at the large window of her office; it overlooked the eastern horizon of the city. Her eyes focused on the street below studying the slow movement of cars through the midday traffic. She could hear his voice in the back of her mind although she paid hardly any attention to what was being said; all she focused on was his mention of 'you and me' and the shame she felt for no longer feeling that union.

"We won't have to worry about anything anymore- Jill. They increased my salary by…"

"That's not important Chris." She spoke with quick fierceness in her voice.

It caused Chris to look at her without the confidence he had before she spoke.

She was aggravated by the sudden thought of him using his financial gain as a means of her sticking around. She took a great offense to it. She felt like he was trying to imply her leaving like he did.

"What matters is…" she suddenly paused from her thoughts. 'Whether or not you'll leave us again...' she thought silently. She shook off the thought as to not mention it out loud.

"What matters is…that you are happy with it." Her smile cleverly hid the true feelings that harbored her soul.

"I am, but it's not me who matters in this equation…" She looked at him, slightly aggravated.

"I care more about you and Lauren's well being."

She falsely smiled yet again; this time to suppress the angry tears that had already began to appear.

"I'll make it special tonight…don't worry Jill. It's the least I can do…"

She looked up at him with hopefulness in her eyes as she awaited the apology she dreamt of hearing, his expression of regret for leaving the family for five months without notice.

He continued to speak.

"For dropping by here without notice…" He smiled while embracing her once more. His warmth reminded her of the safety she often felt around him yet the words he spoke made the embrace feel similar to smoldering.

She had been waiting since the previous night for an apology from him and was disappointed that she still didn't hear it.

He kissed her lips tenderly, running his fingers through the lengthy strands of her hair with one hand, supporting her back with the other.

"I will see you tonight." He said between the kiss. Jill stared into his eyes; she was still in disbelief at his failure to apologize. She felt as if the connection they once shared had been incinerated along with her patience, love, trust, and willpower.

He had already started to approach the door before she caught his attention once more.

"Wait Chris." she wanted to tell him how she felt, every nerve in her body wanted to pour out to him how he left her to rot alone without any hopes of ever seeing his face again. But alas, her courage could never overthrow his own.

He turned to her.

"Is Lauren coming with? We can't just leave her at home by herself."

"Oh yeah…that's also what I had to tell you- I'm picking my sister up from the airport today around 3:45. She's coming down to visit for a while."

"Claire's coming?" she asked with a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Yeah…she really wants to see you and Lauren."

"That's perfect!" Jill felt a minor relief. To have help with Lauren was a godsend.

"I'll be heading out to Lauren's school around 3:15 so we should be home by the time you get there."

"We'll meet you at home then…" he said before winking at her. She leaned against the front of the desk, smiling insipidly and watched his exit.

3:25 pm

Jill's hands traced the curvature of the steering wheel as she sat waiting in the car. Her eyes moved around at the setting around her. She had been sitting there for ten minutes although it felt more like thirty. In her mind it may as well have been. She sighed a breathe of dismay at the thoughts that swept through her mind, they were dark and degrading and driving her to the point of insanity.

_When or if you ever betray someone - remember that it is only because you were once a_ _victim_ _of it_. – The words she dreaded hearing but respected each time they were mentioned.

Her father spoke them frequently. He told her this at a very young age, at the time when she found out of his affair, the incident that fractured her trust, in any person. She eventually learned the truth behind it all thus giving her a reason to accept his words as guidance. She often hated the fact that she was like him but couldn't deny that she was his child and that they shared similarities that were impossible to change.

Jill focused on the school that was adjacent to her position. The sign that stood next to the building span a great length nearly to the top were it displayed the name of the institution as well as the futile motto.

**Lane Park Elementary School;**_Where mind, body, and soul can work as one. _

"Why isn't it all working for me right now?" she wondered.

She sighed and tilted her head back against the seat allowing the afternoon breeze to sweep against her face and hoping that it would lift her out of the car and to a far away place.

Seconds later the front doors of the school opened with fury, the sound of laughter roared from a stampede of running children- escaping the hardships of the day. She watched the many unfamiliar faces pass by until she spotted the red-haired lass.

With a honk of the horn Lauren's head jolted in her direction.

"Hi Mommy!" she yelled while getting into the car.

"Hey scarlet how was your day?"

"It was boring…I'm so glad it's over."

"Yeah…my day was rather boring also."

"We did do something fun though…" Lauren unclasps the clamps of her lunch box revealing a drawing of what looked to be her family. "We had Art for an hour!" she pulled it out to show.

"Wow honey- that's amazing!" Jill's spirits were temporarily uplifted.

"So what did you do today?" Lauren asked.

"The same…" the corresponding response to Carlos' question. She realized it.

"Wrote about some stupid plan to open up a giant toy store downtown…" Lauren's eyes lit up with delight. "But I don't think you'd be interested in that…" Jill laughed to herself.

"Toys…c'mon anything to do with that I'm interested in."

Jill looked over at her daughter and smiled.

"I was only joking scarlet…"

"Oh well…that would be awesome if they really did build a giant one."

The harsh air that filled the car once before became mellow and comedic from the innocent beauty bestowed by the child. Lauren eased Jill's pain and sanity although at times she would be the major component for it. During times like this it was attention she without a doubt needed.

"What's for dinner tonight?" the infamous question Jill loathed to hear daily.

"Well I was planning on making something…but your Dad changed plans. He's taking me out tonight."

Lauren looked disappointed. "What about me? What am I supposed to eat?"

"I don't know…my dust?" Jill smirked.

"I'm kidding. We won't leave you hanging dear."

"Well still—what am I gonna eat?"

"That's for you and Claire to decide."

"Claire?"

"Mmm-hmm."

" …as in Aunt Claire?"

"Yep"

"Sweet!" Lauren became excited.

"Your Dad should be at the airport waiting for her." Jill gazed into the rearview mirror at herself and then at the traffic behind her.

Lauren drifted off into sleep as the long drive home proceeded.

Jill looked over to her and smiled at the peaceful look upon her daughter's face. She envied her- wishing she could relive the days of childhood. The carefree and innocent days of life when everything seemed simple and nothing mattered; everything was taken for granted, and if mistakes were made they could easily be taken back. Now everything was completely opposite.

She sighed at the true harshness of reality.

The sky began to fill with darkness as the clouds smothered the evening sunlight and welcomed in a night of quiet storms. She could sense it.

They arrived home, and without hesitation, rushed into the house as the first set of raindrops showered unto the land.


	3. Memoire

**3**

A lone solid blue bucket sat still in the kitchen sink as water quickly filled it up to its brim. Ghostly white ribbons spiraled from the surface almost seconds after the faucet had been turned off. Denoting the water's temperature. Jill poured a powerful disinfectant fluid inside and watched as it created thick puffs of foam onto the surface.

She bent down below to grab a sponge out of the oak cabinet beneath the sink. The five remaining were hidden behind a wide selection of various cleansers as well as empty jars and canisters.

Her heavy eyes set upon the silver band that had decorated the second finger to the last. She sighed in memory at the words that were said as it were being pushed into place; the eyes that she stared into while they were being said, and the lips she kissed afterward. Her eyes scanned the engravings – they displayed a grand flight of doves; soaring on either side until their disperse - at the end, upon the very center of the ring sat a beautiful emerald stone. She pulled it off and sat it upon the windowsill above the sink to be cleaned later.

Her hands were then clothed in tacky mustard yellow of latex; it fit lose upon her hands, but remained in its place until it began to flare out a bit at mid forearm. She submerged the sponge into the formula, pushing it to the bottom.

She lifted it out and gave it a soft squeeze before setting it onto the counter top surface.

Jill began cleaning the nearest of the counter tops - soft warm strokes then to more firm extensive strokes.

She'd only clean whenever something was bothering her; this being something she had always done since her childhood. It was the second most affective stress reliever in her book other than her unusual trips to the shooting range. A place she hadn't been in quite some time.

Jill sighed at the realization that she had been looking at the stove clock every fifteen seconds since she began. It was an exasperating habit she had become accustomed to ever since _that _day. Another sigh escaped her mouth; this one however was a tired one. One she had become used to feeling on a daily basis. She wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Her mind and hands worked in unison, as each acted merely as the other's scapegoat to mask the tension that seared them both. Her arms felt stiff – burdensome; as though they had been doing this every day for a great while and the time became the weight.

The evening sun beamed through the opened windows on the eastern side of the house - showing it's victory over the storm that passed over. Delicate orange ribbons of light adorned the walls and furniture throughout the living room and kitchen. It illuminated the room with almost a heavenly brilliance.

She didn't bother using the electricity.

She submerged the sponge back into the water, squeezed out the remaining liquid and applied it onto the surface of the table. The bare oak reminded her of the tree used to create it, the old oak tree that stood prestigiously in the back yard. It was removed because it blocked a significant amount of light from getting into the house. Its bare surface also reminded her of the first night Chris had left.

* * *

"When is Daddy gonna get here?" Lauren's voice trembled. Her hands shook about beneath the table; they were slow dainty shivers that she struggled to keep hidden from her mother.

"I don't know honey…he's probably at a meeting." Jill answered almost annoyingly – for it had been the twelfth time she heard herself saying it. Hiding the fact that it was the same she had been asking herself.

The both of them sat face to face at the dinner table that had been originally set for three. Their eyes gaped over in unison at the head seat of the table; it's bareness only allowed for them to look towards the door thereafter. They both returned to each others gaze, in a confused emotion – as though they were begging each other for the answer.

Jill sighed huskily before rising from her seat, with the gentle handle of both she and Lauren's empty plates she slowly made the approach towards the kitchen. The thick saucy remnants of a delightful meal were all that had been left as evidence.

She entered the kitchen; her eyes circled the room staring first at the ingredients she used that still needed to be put away. She took notice of Babe's position by the door – his usual after he ate. He briefly brought a smile to her face.

_I'm making Lasagna…your Dad's favorite…and yours too..._ She remembered herself saying just hours before. Before she spent two hours of what would've been well appreciated relaxation time after a hard and excruciatingly stressful day, preparing a meal for the man she knew would appreciate it; the man she knew loved it more than anything – simply because she prepared it. His absence made her feel like a fool – simply because she had done it all for nothing.

She was not use to being without him. Frustration escaped her mouth in the form breath.

She sat the plates into the basin to be washed.

Jill stretched her arms out against the edge of the sink, allowing for her to apply her weight onto them; her head hung low between them. She sighed again behind the same frustration as before, fatigue, and fret at the kitchen she had to clean yet again, the eight plus hours she had put in for the day, and the unknown knowledge of Chris' whereabouts.

She looked outside of the window before her, watching as dusk began to invade the skies.

Her eyes redirected themselves back to the clock, reminding her that it was 8:30 pm – four hours past the time he usually made it in.

"He's…in a meeting." She reassured herself while standing to her feet. She brushed off the harsh feelings that had befallen her. Feeling as though they were absurd.

_Where else would he be?_ She laughed to herself, a false response merely to hide her apprehension.

* * *

The blaring echo of barking brought her back to reality - her eyes landed on the origin of the sound. Down below she could see the beautiful grey eyes stare up at her from the same position by the door. He slowly walked towards her.

"Good boy." Jill spoke while removing the latex gloves from her hands.

Babe stood just below her hip, his head hang over the table with ease allowing her to pet without the agony of kneeling. Her hand ran against the velvet coat of pure steel blue admiring the care that had been given to keep it in good condition.

She threw the sponge onto the wet surface and the both of them walked out of the kitchen. The living room held stillness that she appreciated since the day the house was purchased. The walls were tall and painted a sandy beige color, with windows that were large yet set symmetrical to each other on the walls surrounding the area, allowing for the utmost of natural light to encase the room. A light breeze swept through the house causing the sheer curtains that decorated the windows to flutter about.

From the left of the kitchen and a few feet ahead of Lauren's room sat the dinning room. It was built half a level higher than the living room, giving it a moderate sovereign feel. The large dinning table was vacant, yet it was set for seven. She ran her hand along the massive china cabinet that had been built into the wall. Like both tables, it too was made of oak wood. The dishes inside were priceless. Made of highly pristine porcelain and inlaid beautifully in floral prints of white gold. She smiled at the unprecedented beauty.

She walked back into the living room with her intentions originally set on relaxing. Babe stood before Lauren's room before entering.

"Mommy?" Lauren's voice emerged from her room.

"What is it honey?" Jill responded, hesitantly at first, enjoying the few seconds of peace she had almost attained.

"Can you help me with this?"

Jill had already begun to relax onto the cushions of the crème sofa when she heard Lauren's request, she sighed - frustrated. She rose from the seat and walked towards the room.

"What did you need help with?" she said while entering the child's room.

She looked over to were the girl sat, behind a small purple table that set two small matching chairs. In her left hand she held a pencil and her right held the paper steady. Babe stood beside her, watching down as she began to write – erase – and write again.

Her eyes glanced up at Jill's approach.

"My homework…I don't understand this." She looked down unconfidently to the paper.

Jill walked in closer. Her eyes quickly glanced over the minuscule typeface on the sheet. From what she could see it was Math. A subject she herself mastered in school.

They were word problems and from what she could tell they were some of Lauren's first ones.

"You guys started on word problems today huh?" she asked while kneeling down besides the table. A small lamp sat adjacent to them both as it shown a tawny colored glow onto the white paper. The reflection softly illuminated the rest of the room.

"Yeah…they are kinda hard." She said with honesty.

"I know…but once you get the hang of it – they'll come quite easy for you. I promise." Jill smiled while kissing her forehead.

"Alright…so the first thing you want to do when trying to solve a word problem is to first see what the actual problem is." Jill glanced down at the paper and began to read the small paragraph as it appeared.

"So here it says 'Paul and Amy are setting up a lemonade stand – they need paint which will cost them 5.00 a can, ice which will cost them 1.50 per bag, and lemons which only cost .25 each.'" She signaled Lauren to write down the numbers she spoke.

"It's easy if you write down how much everything costs at first…so that you don't confuse yourself when you are trying to configure everything." The girl obeyed.

"O.k. now look over those numbers again. Now you have to figure out how many of each they need – which they tell you here. It says 'they need to purchase 1 can of yellow paint, 2 cans of white paint, 4 bags of ice, and a bundle of 30 lemons in order to start the stand.'"

Lauren grabbed the pencil and began jotting down the numbers.

"Alright – now we know how much of everything they need – so now the only thing left to do is to figure out the question – that is the problem. 'How much money (in total expenses) will Paul and Amy spend for their lemonade stand?' So now you can take the numbers and figure out the amount."

"I add right?" Lauren asked. Her confidence had begun to reawaken as she grabbed the pencil and began to combine the first set of numbers.

"You got it Scarlet." Jill smiled.

Lauren proceeded.

"So first let's figure out the price for each product they need.

1 can of yellow paint and 2 of white at 5 per can. So that's 3 cans of paint…"

"So that's 15.00 for 3 cans of paint." Lauren spoke with certainty.

"Yep…now the ice. 4 bags at 1.50 each." She watched, as Lauren grew weary at the new and undiscovered mathematical obstacle that sat perfectly in-between the 1 and 5 of the unit.

"That's called a decimal. I'm surprised your teacher didn't teach you about those before giving you word problems…well anyway I'll teach it to you. Basically all a decimal is is just another way of saying 'a part of a whole'. So for instance 1.50 means that I have 1 dollar as well as half of a dollar. If I just wrote it 150 then that means I have more than a dollar and a half dollar. The decimal makes the number smaller. That may be confusing but we'll keep doing them so that you get the hang of it."

Jill took the pencil and began to write out '1.50' four times.

"I'll just show you how to do this one…with decimals the easiest way to figure them out is to write the numbers atop of each other so that all of the decimal points line up. That makes it much more easier to add."

She pushed the paper before Lauren.

"Take a shot at it…" Jill said behind a proud smile.

Lauren began to slowly master the art of adding decimals. Jill noticed how quick of a learner she was and how that was undoubtedly a trait Lauren inherited from her. She smiled to herself while watching over the child's shoulder.

"O.k. so I got 6.00. Is that right?"

"Yeah good job! I knew you'd catch on quick. I think you'll be the first in your class to know how to do decimals Scarlet."

Lauren held a smile on her face that made it evident to Jill that she felt much better about her work.

"Alright so now the lemons. This is another decimal but it's a little harder than the ice because they are 30 lemons and each only cost a quarter. Hang on a sec."

Jill rose from her position next to Lauren. She exited the room and entered the kitchen, going for the small calculator inside one of the cabinet drawers – the one closest to the dishwasher.

She returned to Lauren's room.

"Alright so we are gonna use this. Now we don't have to write out .25 thirty times. The trick is to multiply - and I know you haven't even began to test these waters but it doesn't hurt to get a little preview of what's to come right?"

Lauren's eyes swept the lengths of Jill's face with confusion.

"Basically, multiplication is adding with steroids." She kept the same look.

Jill laughed. "It makes it so that you can add big numbers without the headache of simple adding. Here for instance…9 x .25. Basically what I'm doing is adding .25 nine times and that gives me 2.25. So let's try it now with the numbers given. I'll let you do it." Jill handed her the calculator.

"O.k. so type in how many lemons they need…

now type in .25 – the decimal is that button there with the dot.

Now press equal."

"7.5." Lauren spoke out.

"Good…so for 30 lemons at .25 each they will spend 7.50. See how much easier that is?"

"Yeah…it wasn't that bad."

"You should only use this thing for big problems like multiplication and division. You'll get into that later in your years. But we still aren't done – now we have to find out the grand total of expenses. So now that we found how much they will spend on each product let's combine those numbers."

Babe walked out of the room. Lauren's eyes followed but focused at the sound of Jill's voice.

"O.k. the paint was 15.00. The bags of ice were 6.00. The lemons were 7.50." Lauren jotted down the numbers in list format.

"You can use the calculator for this if you want." Jill granted.

"I want to try without it." Lauren began to configure the equation and in a matter of a minute it was complete.

"Wow Scarlet…I think you've mastered the art of problem solving." Jill said while staring at the answer.

"Paul and Amy will spend 28.50 for their stand." Lauren read the answer out loud while she wrote it on the actual paper.

"Good job. Was that the only one?"

"No…I have one more…but I think I can do it."

"Alright…I'll leave it to you. Let me know if you need my help again ok." Jill kissed her forehead before standing.

"What are you about to do mommy?" she asked while her eyes began to read the next problem.

"I think I'm gonna take a bath." She said while walking towards the door.

Lauren said nothing instead her mind had already began to break down the word problem that still had to be solved. As Jill exited she looked back and smiled warmly at the girl at work.

She walked up the stairs and into the bedroom she had been yearning to see all day since the morning. Babe followed close behind.

Jill's eyes instinctively set upon the pristine bed, naturally giving her a sense of tranquility although she did not yet lay upon it. She brushed past the soft covered paradise and made her approach towards the bath. It was a master bathroom – by all meanings of the word. It was large enough to have been a decent sized bedroom; two sinks, a toilet, massive mirrors on both sides, and a huge claw foot tub that sat elegantly against the wall beneath a large paned window. She approached the side where the faucets anchored unto the tub's edge and gave them a gentle twist; the valves where beautifully crafted and where designed for easy movement. The handles were beautifully sculpted of white porcelain, the same as the body of the tub – giving it a monarchical aura. The rich smell of Vanilla filled the room in a matter of seconds as she poured a succulent body cream and foam bath into the water. It was one of her favorite fragrances and one of the few things that could actually calm her senses.

As the water filled the tub Jill walked back into the bedroom. She collapsed unto the bed without effort – as if her body simply could not take anymore that the world had given it. She exhaled a breath of relaxation and allowed for her mind to be at ease – finally, for the first time during the entire day. A sharp pain shot at her shoulders; it was tension that had been there for quite a while yet she ignored each agonizing reminder of its existence. She looked up to her left at the nightstand that stood next to the bed. Her hand reached for the remote control to the television set that she nor Chris hardly ever used. With a push of the power button it came to life. It was always set to one channel, the NEWS, which was a reminder of why she never used it in the first place. As the briefs, sports, and weather buzzed through the back of her mind, the running water ironically kept her calm. The scent began to creep out into the boudoir allowing her senses to ease a bit more. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. As she feared it reminded her of the nights they had found that very same place.

She had grown accustom to this position as it slowly began to feel much like staring at her own reflection, when she was actually looking at nothing – only a ceiling.

It reminded her of loneliness.

"What the hell am I doing to myself?" she said while sitting up straight.

_Several people have been making complaints about their children claming to have spotted a disturbing piece of material in their school lunches…._

The report caught her eye.

_The substance is Cadmium. So far there has been one case of accidental ingestion. The child is being hospitalized for further test and is listed to be under fair to good condition._

_Toxicology experts at Azareus Laboratories warn that this highly toxic metal can cause permanent damage if ignored. And that if any child has come in contact with it…they should seek medical attention immediately. _

As the story continued Jill walked back into the bathroom.

_If accidentally ingested it may cause several of the following:_

_Cancer, pneumonitis, pulomanry edema, or even worse, death. _

_There are no details on how or why this toxin has gotten into the lunches but Romesville Police Department as well as Azareus and the NOHH (National Order of Human Health) are working together to find the answers and to stop it from further widespread. Reporting live for NEWS 78 this is Gina Tremmor…._

She shut off the valves. The tub was a little more than halfway full – yet the foam bath made it look completely full. She pushed the door to almost a close as she began to remove her clothing. The freedom of losing all confinements overwhelmed her skin for the brief moment. With one leg she stepped in, absorbing the tingle of the hot water. Bravely she slid her entire body down into the water. She allowed for it to stop at her neck; the soft long strands of her hair freely floated about. She closed her eyes at the exhilaration. Every part of her body relaxed in unison that caused her to quickly drift into the state of slumber.

* * *

Eyes open.

They noticed the familiar surroundings.

The soft cushions of tranquility, the subtle smell of warmth, the gentle hum of the television set on its lowest volume, and the hollow feeling of fret.

The worry that swept her denied her to the will to move, she did not have the strength to speak, cry, nor rest. She stared at the ceiling as though she were asking it every question that invaded her mind. She felt like something had been taken away from her, something as vital as an organ.

She sat up at once, her hand hovering over her heavy heart after noticing what she had feared. The house was the way she left it before she fell asleep. Something was missing - someone was missing. She wearily walked towards the front door of the house. With one foot first she stepped outside onto the front porch and then out into the darkness where she saw nothing but only small dots of the distant lighted city skyline. To her right was parked Chris's car in the dimly lit driveway. She placed a hand on the black shiny surface of the trunk, and moved it in unison with her eyes against the letters above the taillights. _300D – Turbo Diesel._ It was a W140 Mercedes Benz. She then looked back out to the horizon as if she were looking for something to appear. Desperately.

She sat against his car for twenty solid minutes until she realized that there was no hope.

The cool morning air brushed against her face as it welcomed the day to come. The stars in the sky kept the night at bay as they awaited the first bands of the sun – like the rest of nature. Her eyes adhered to their diamond like beauty as she returned to the house.

She reentered.

A nearby clock blatantly made her notice that it read 4:20 am. She walked into the kitchen simply to confirm her fears. The clock above the stove read the same. Her nerves were numb. He was never this late and he would never forget to call home. She thought.

She looked at Babe who, like her, remain awake. Wondering.

Jill sat at the kitchen table. Her head slumped down unto her arms.

She was tired but much too weary to sleep and she wanted to call him, but she knew he wouldn't answer – she had been trying ever since dinner.

"It's important…it has to be important." She said worried. She didn't want to believe anything else.

Her leg moved about restlessly beneath the table. Her fingers began to tap the surface of the table in a familiar tune she had remembered yet she could not identify it. Her breathing turned into nervous sighs.

She sat there for the remainder of the morning and once the rising sun met her stare she finally returned to slumber.

* * *

The lucid dream caused her to violently shake out of her comfortable slouch against the slope at the back of the tub. It was the first night that Chris was away and it would mark the first night of the many nights of her dread.

"God…I'm fucking killing myself…" she whispered.

Babe entered at her despair.

Jill sat up, her hands began rubbing her sore shoulders. She let out a sigh at the release of tension.

"I'm alright pup…just having bad dreams." She smiled.

The news continued in the background. It was something about world travels of the rich and famous – one of the many things she really did not care about. Yet she listened. It all began to sound the same, meaningless opinions and facts about people who wouldn't know suffering if it killed them – she thought to herself. She laid back into the tub this time allowing the water to wash past her ears and allowing it to crown her face. She inhaled before submerging her entire head.

Her eyes opened, staring up at the distorted glass surface of the water. The delicate light of the bathroom wavered about in the above her.

She lifted herself out at the need of oxygen.

"Daddy!" she could hear Lauren scream from outside below.

"Claire!" she could hear her once more. Babe exited the room. She grabbed her satin robe and entered the bedroom once more. She turned off the television and walked over to the closet.

Small feet jolted up the staircase to the second floor of the home. Lauren entered her parent's room as though it was her own.

"Mommy…" she called out.

"I'm in here Lauren." Her muffled voice erupted from the area to her left.

"Daddy's home." She announced happily.

"Is he? Good I was just about to find something to wear."

"Can I help you?" Lauren asked politely.

"If you really want to."

"Of course."

"Is Claire here also?" Jill asked.

"Yeah.."

"Hey what about this one?" She held out a small black dress.

"Hmmm…nah. That's too plain. Don't you have something that's a little more colorful?"

"I have the same one in red."

"Nah red's too trashy…"

Jill laughed at her use of the word.

"How about that blue one you wore to that Arcehstra."

"It's 'Orchestra' honey. I don't know if I can still fit that one." Jill disappereared further into the closet; she pulled out the cerulean blue summer dress that Lauren spoke of. It was made of light material that faded from a darker cerulean into a lighter one as the dress fell. From what she could remember, it was very form fitting.

"Yeah that one's a killer Mom." She said while walking towards Jill.

Lauren draped the dress around her head while Jill still held the top of the dress in her hands.

"Alright Scarlet c'mon I have to get dressed. Why don't you go and tell your dad that I will be ready in a sec." She said while lying the dress onto the bed's surface.

"That's how you treat me? You want my assistance then you kick me to the curb!! No respect!" Lauren joked while walking out of the room.

"That kid…" she said while laughing and nodding.

Chris entered at Lauren's exit.

She could feel his presence although he remained silent.

"Jill…" he eventually spoke once she had entered the bathroom. He tossed his suit jacket onto the bed next to the dress that she selected to wear. His eyes paused at the bright hues of cerulean and it drove the memory of her body inside of it into his mind. He heard water run from the faucet as he neared his approach to the bathroom.

Once he entered he watched as Jill washed her face. She lifted her head at his entrance.

"Hey." She said before drying off.

Chris walked further into the room.

"I thought I heard something." She continued.

He grabbed her frame and embraced her.

"How was traffic?" she asked while facing the mirror. Her hands scaled the large bag of cosmetics that sat on the sink.

Out of it she took what she needed; blush, mascara, concealer, foundation, and red lipstick.

"It honestly wasn't as bad as I thought…" he replied.

"What took the longest was her flight. It was almost an hour late." He finished while untying his tie.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him removing the rest of his clothing.

Seeing him still excited her…it was evident. Yet she had begun to question it.

Her eyes trailed his naked body as though it had never seen it before. The muscles he had kept every since she could remember, the absolute beauty of his back, the amazing stomach, the hands, the area where she forcefully made her eyes resist...she closed her eyes embarrassingly. Like a virgin in a men's locker room.

She began to think back to the last time she had seen him this way and to her disappointment it had been quite some time. Before he had been away.

She sighed huskily.

"You o.k?" he asked from inside of the shower.

Jill turned her head towards his direction, through the frosted glass of the door she could see him beginning to wash his hair. Her eyes traced the image of his body once more – the body she thought she'd never get to see again. She accepted that fate – and now that it was given back to her she did not know if she wanted it.

She remained silent for a brief second before answering.

"Yeah I'm alright. Just kinda tired." She said while exiting the bathroom.

She lifted the dress from the mattress and slowly began to slide it onto her body.

The sound of running water ceased.

Chris stood before the same mirror, his eyes scanning the contents that cluttered the counter top; hair straightener, mascara, moisturizers and lipstick. He then focused on himself – noticing the great condition of his arms and torso. He opened the cabinet beneath the sink hoping to quickly find the aftershave. What caught his eyes before anything else were the many small orange canisters – some old and some new. They each held a small label that first read "Azareus Rx" then beneath it "as prescribed by Dr. Paula Rummenstein M.D. for Jillian Redfield" He counted – eight bottles total, four of which still had medication inside of them. Closely he examined one of them – carefully reading the instructions as if it were meant for his personal ingestion.

"Loprapizide: Natural medicament against Insomnia. Take 2 tablets by mouth as needed."

He then lifted another from its abode and read it closely.

"Amphladine: Natural medicament to suppress Migraines. Take 1 tablet by mouth as needed for intense headaches. Take at onset of pain."

He found himself soon examining all of them.

"Zylopex: Natural medicament against Anxiety/Depression." He looked away confused.

"Take 1 tablet by mouth twice daily."

The very last of them caught his eye and kept it there longer than he had hoped.

"Bogoxin: Natural emotion suppressant. Take 2 tablets by mouth 2 times daily at the onset of intense anger (manic episode). Do not take more than 4 tablets in a single day."

He looked away in disbelief.

"Jill…bipolar?" he whispered to himself quiet enough for her not to hear it.

It was hard for him to imagine. He knew she had a temper but not to the extent of losing control of it or having to have medication for it.

"So where exactly did you have in mind?" Jill reentered.

Her hands were struggling to fasten the beautiful silver necklace around her neck. She remembered it being a gift form him on her birthday the year before last. Her eyes stared at the small charm that lay just above her partially revealed cleavage. The brilliant white crystals were almost galactic as though galaxies had succumbed the insides of them. The dress fit her like she remembered it would. Her back faced Chris yet she could clearly see him through the opposite mirror. She noticed that he had begun to shave.

"I was thinking maybe…" he paused and applied the clean-sharp razor unto his left cheek, bringing it upward in the direction of his mouth. He then rinsed it clean.

"The Golden Palm." He continued to shave. The medication still being his primary thought.

"Nice. I heard a lot of good reviews for that place." She added. "Heard they have excellent seafood."

"It's Five Star isn't it?" he asked while continuing on his face.

"Yeah. It was rated the top out of all the Five Stars in town." She said.

"Good…" he said while rinsing the razor for one last time. "I feel a lot more confident about it now." He finished while walking behind Jill, he stared at her reflection in unison with her. He wrapped his arms around her body, staring deep into her eyes through the reflection of the mirror. It was the embrace she always loved to feel.

"You look amazing." He said before the hungry lips attacked the warm flesh of her neck.

She didn't respond however she just continued to stare at the reflection. As though she were trying desperately to understand it.

"Is that the one I gave you?" his eyes focused in on the necklace that adorned her neck.

"Yeah." She softly spoke.

Together they stood looking into each other's eyes as though they were reading each others thoughts. It felt awkward – much different from what she had been used to feeling. He turned her body to face his and lowered his lips upon hers.

"You should get dressed." She said while walking away.

* * *

"So how have you been kiddo?" the warm yet full voice spoke into ears that had missed hearing it. Lauren looked at the woman's eyes, admiring how they closely resembled her father's. The red strands of hair that refused to stay in the lazy ponytail gave Lauren an overwhelming desire to fix it.

"Good." She answered while removing the band that held Claire's long hair together.

"Really? How about school?" she asked while purposely keeping still as the girl's fingers ran through the soft strips.

"School's going good…" she answered.

"I'm glad to hear that…I miss seeing your face, when are gonna come back and see me?

"Soon I hope." She answered, pulling the hair into a tight ponytail that sat at the center of Claire's head.

"Can I go back with you?"

"Hmm…I don't know." She answered mockingly, quickly taking notice of the girl's disappointment at her answer.

"You know I'd love it! But we have to wait until the winter – You can come for Christmas maybe." Claire continued.

Lauren responded with a bear-like hug, very close and unbearably tight.

"You promise?" she asked.

"Of course." Claire continued the embrace, tightening her own grip.

Her eyes soon examined the object that hang in front of the window above Lauren's bed. She began walking towards it.

"You made this?" she asked while holding it between her fingers. She closely examined the beautiful color of the yarn and admired the craftsmanship.

"Yeah, it's a dreamcatcher. We made them at school." Lauren spoke, her voice at Claire's back.

"It's awesome. The best one I've ever seen." Claire said while sitting onto the perfectly made bed.

"You know what it does?" she asked while the young girl sat beside her.

"Of course – they capture your dreams silly – hence the name!" Lauren laughed.

"Yeah – but do you know what else they do?" Claire responded. Lauren nodded.

"They ward off evil spirits…it was a concept created by the Native Americans." She brought the object up to her eye level – closely examining it once more.

"You did an excellent job making it. The weaving is just so…perfect. It's so neat." She finished.

Claire replaced it back to its place at the center of the window. Small spectrums of light shown through the webbing and painted a shadow onto the bed.

"You can have it if you want – I can always make another." Lauren spoke.

"Oh no – it's entirely yours kiddo." She kissed her forehead before standing up. She then walked out of the room.

"Hey…" A yell caused Claire to turn and face Lauren from the doorway. "What ever happened to that guy?"

Claire's eyes widened. "What was his name?" she could hear Lauren whisper. "Yeah…it's Leon right?" Claire shuttered at the name.

Briefly she flashed back to the last night she had seen the man Lauren spoke of. She specifically remembered the conversation they had and it ending with her telling him that she never wanted to see him again. When deep down inside she immensely felt otherwise.

"He's…" she suddenly paused at the memory of him. "Around." She finished.

Slowly, she removed the cobalt sweater she wore and sat it down over the arm of one of the chairs as she entered the living room. It had been a lengthy amount of time since she had seen his face or spoken to him.

A husky sigh escaped her mouth as her tired eyes traced the shapes of nature outside of the window. The rolling valleys of grass swept green until they converged with the orange and crimson bands of the sky. In the center posted the sun, the great orb of light – bright red as it marked the final moments of its time there.

The meaty scent of perfume swept passed her nostrils at that moment, followed by the high clatter of heeled shoes unto the hardwood floor of the main foyer. Her face turned at the sound of Jill's entrance.

"Claire!" she said while approaching swiftly.

Their arms wrapped tightly around each other in a close embrace.

"It's so good to see you again Jill." Claire responded.

Her eyes studied the attire that Jill wore. Her beauty was something that even she admitted she never expected from her.

Over Jill's bare shoulder she could see her brother, she smiled at his cockiness in knowing how well he looked simply because it was secretly a cockiness that she as well had.

"Thanks so much for taking care of Lauren tonight…" Jill spoke with great appreciation as one would if being saved by another person.

"You can use my car, it should still have a half tank, the brakes need to be fixed so go easy on them…oh and…." Jill's instruction was interrupted by Chris' impatience.

"It's ok…her car is in worse shape. She can handle it Jill." He spoke firmly.

"Don't worry – unfortunately he's right. My car is the devil's chariot. We'll be just fine I can handle a few kinks." Claire smiled at her before glaring at her brother. She took notice of his impatience, remembering their conversation on the way home. He had mentioned that it had been a while since he and Jill were alone together – she knew that he had been waiting for it.

"You guys should really get going…you have a reservation don't you?" she asked as she guided the both of them towards the door.

"Yeah…I believe so." Jill replied.

Chris had already begun to exit as she took her time talking to Claire.

"If you need anything Claire…don't hesitate to call me ok." She assured confidently.

"We'll be fine, Jill." Claire smiled back with optimistic eyes.

"Later Claire." Chris yelled as he approached the car. She did a single wave and watched as Jill entered the car.

They drove away.

She reentered the house, Lauren walked out of her room soon after Claire entered the living room.

"Hey you why didn't you come out to say goodbye to your folks?" She followed the girl into the kitchen.

"Because…this won't be my last time seeing them." She answered promptly.

_Clever one. _Claire thought. Lauren approached the refrigerator. From it she grabbed the milk. Claire took notice of the medium hands that held the glass tightly; she began to check the cupboards above for cups.

"Spoken like a true Redfield." She commented while opening the first set of doors.

'Olive oil…canned spinach…creamed corn…granola…'

_Nope. _Claire thought.

She moved to the next and then the neighboring one until the sound of a loud screech made from the wooden chair sliding against the tiled floor ceased her search.

"Here I'll get them." Lauren climbed unto the chair before opening the cupboard directly before her. Out of it she took two tall glasses.

"I'll take it for here." Claire said while handling the glasses while the girl climbed down. She poured them each a glass full.

"You know – we could just stay in if you want. Maybe order some take out?" Claire suggested. It caught Lauren's sudden interest.

"We should drive in town and go to Burney's." Lauren countered.

"What's Burney's?"

"Oh my God…you've never been to Burney's?"

"No…" Claire laughed at the energy, the sheer animation in Lauren's face as she spoke.

"It's only the best pizza in the whole freaking world!"

"O.k. you totally sound like your dad. Stop it, it's scary." Claire said while standing from her seat at the table. Lauren's eyes followed her as she approached the phone hanging upon the wall next to the entrance.

"Does this place have a number?" she picked up the receiver.

"Should be in there." Claire grabbed the small booklet that Lauren spoke of.

"Here it is…" she said as her finger stopped at a number in small writing.

She waited patiently as the dial tone went from a monotone ring to multi-toned announcement.

"We're sorry – this line has been disconnected."

She hung up.

"What happened?" Lauren asked.

"It's disconnected…" Claire announced.

"Oh yeah." Lauren said while placing the cup into the sink.

"What?"

"I forgot – they went out of business two years ago." Lauren smiled almost mockingly.

The innocence bestowed within her eyes made her seem as if she really had forgotten yet the sarcasm in her voice made it otherwise. Claire laughed to herself, shaking her head.


	4. Welcome Home

**4**

The tall walls were painted high-pigmented gold and span upwards until they supported the edges of the upper limit. The high ceilings were coffered and painted a darker pigment than the walls and seemed as though they flowed onward for eternity. Chandeliers entirely composed of French cut glass and ormolu rained dim light into the room softly – almost euphoric. The floor was covered in small tiles, roughly one inch each, in a combination of reds, whites, blues, and yellows and assembled beautiful mosaic patterns at each section. What was appropriately named the Golden Fountain room, sat in the middle and acted as the restaurant's grand centerpiece. The fountain itself stood prestigious in the center, through the falling water shone golden light. It illuminated the surrounding area majestically. To the very right of the fountain sat an ensemble of musicians – they had been playing since their arrival. The soft splatter of water reacted as a metronome.

_Symphony No. 24 in B-flat major_. A distant recognition.

Apathetic eyes focused out of a neighboring window as the strings began to play, a blink and soon after the thick brim of a cello followed. A husky sigh crept from the tired mouth, the same frustrated one as earlier. Soon the eyes moved over the elaborate drapery of the framed window. They span the length up the wall, stopping at the ceiling and draped gracefully back down onto the floor in velvet glory. They were too elegant to have been machine made and looked much older than the window itself.

The alien sound of a saxophone announced its presence and allowed itself attention from those who did not at first notice it. Everyone who had been silent and inattentive became fully engrossed at the robust voice of the instrument.

"Still haven't decided huh?" Jill glared over at the sound of the familiar voice.

"No" she responded after noticing the page her finger had marked for the past three minutes.

"Well at least we can choose a good wine to drink." Chris said as he sat across from her at the small table. He first took notice of the candlelight and how the amber licks danced softly upon her skin in the faintly lit room. He smiled.

His eyes scanned the first page of the wine menu.

"I'm thinking white." She looked over the extensive list as well. They were each arranged by type, age, as well as location.

Chris read aloud the first.

"La Roche - La Tâche, Vosne-Romanée, France- 1997."

"This one looks promising…it's a Pinot Grigio…I'm kinda tired of drinking red all the time."

"That sounds good." He responded before silently reading the selection she had pointed out.

"Zen Gardens – Napa, California – 1998."

"Ah…it's not white…it says it here. You can barely see it."

"Hmm… how about 'Perle Bianche- Barolo, Italy – 1997'?"

"Good choice." He closed the menu and sat it down to the fine tablecloth.

The waiter soon returned; he was impatiently clicking the button of his ink pen – implying his agitation. This was his third attempt at taking their order.

"We'd like a bottle of this…" suddenly she paused – her eyes quickly glancing over the choice once more, making sure that it was what she wanted. "And I'll have the special."

Chris ordered the same.

The waiter walked away relieved that he could now fully finish his job. It was obvious that it was currently a change in shifts as the restaurant steadily approached its closing time. The floor staff was quite antsy and quickly became annoyed at customers who were not yet prepared to order.

Jill's voice brought warmth to the cold air left by the worker.

"I hope Claire and Lauren are alright."

"They're fine."

"Did we leave money for them?" she grabbed her purse and began searching through it.

She was looking for her wallet. She noticed it was not there – as well as the ring on her finger. A frightful pause kept her hand remaining deep within the satchel - almost forcefully. The image of the kitchen windowsill sprang into her mind at the moment. She left it there on accident yet she felt as though it were intentional.

"Relax – I took care of it. I gave two hundred to Claire when we got home. The most we need to worry about is Lauren finding out and trying to bribe it out of her."

"Claire can handle Lauren I'm sure." She smiled. With her hand still inside. She was secretly handling the compact mirror, desperately – pretending as though she were still looking for something important now other than the wallet.

"Yeah – you'd think _they_ were sisters."

"I'm so glad she's here."

"Me too." They both smiled in silence at the same thought.

"Thanks Chris." She courageously replaced her bare hand back onto the table.

"Don't worry…" he placed a hand over hers without noticing the absence. It didn't matter to him like it never really did in the first place. Yet she felt as though it did.

He noticed her apprehension and recognized that it was not normal. He noted the soft hint of uncertainty in her voice whenever she spoke, the slight tilt of her head from exhaustion, and the timid - fretful glare in the eyes that were normally alert and confident. She shot them away and returned to the harbor outside.

"So – this promotion…what does it entail?" She asked.

Her eyes found comfort on a desolate sailboat. It was the type that the opulent collected as way of showing the public their status in society. It had a large white sail with the logo of some company on it. The darkness outside hindered her from reading the letters clearly.

"Well…they've called me over to another department."

"Another department? I thought you were the leader of your own there?"

"I was…but now they want me to lead as a member of the board."

Jill remained silent.

"Starting next week, I'll no longer be working there…"

"Then where will you work?"

Chris looked at her and smiled cunningly before answering.

"Bosman/Crooney…"

"The only one that survived the financial fallout of 08' huh? I wonder what made them approach you?" It wasn't so much to offend him, but merely a sign of incredulity.

"The fact that I am the best leader they've seen in a while – that I know for a fact." – Confidently.

"But I don't get it…why did they look at your company out of a hundred other better ones in the city? No offense."

"I wondered the same honestly…none taken there. I figure it's all in the matter of hopes and dreams. Stocks are falling there now. BC is planning on buying them all up and making profits off of them; all in the meantime giving breaks to all those who keep it 'hush, hush'…and without the whole confidence that it might actually be a good idea."

"Hmm and why doesn't that surprise me? Sounds like someplace else I know." She commented wistfully.

"Pretty much Jill – you already know how it goes." Chris sighed, mockingly.

Jill relaxed at the realization that she was still capable of having a normal conversation with him. The monster she had built him up to be ended up being a knight in shining armor once again. Simply because it was just his nature. He was a charmer.

Bosman/Crooney was one of those big names she remembered doing independent research on, it was the only one of three major institutions that did not fall under after the financial crisis of the year 2008. It was the only company with enough backing and stocks to save itself from fallout. It saved people's homes, jobs, as well as banks. Society in general was able to avoid a recession due to the institution's self- stabilizing tactics - which earned it top appreciation from the Capitol. It was her first project as a writer. She remembered it quite vividly.

She wondered why they approached a small firm such as the one Chris had been employed to as well as why they chose him out of the three-hundred fifty thousand that were also employed there. Not that she thought he wasn't qualified; she knew he'd be a great asset to the corporation, but it was of such short notice. And she didn't want to admit to her veiled envy.

"So are you excited about it?" she asked.

"I don't know if there is anything different to be excited about…I'll just be dealing with higher cronies. Let's just hope I don't become one." He laughed. However, she did not find it funny.

"They're raising my salary by eighty percent as I mentioned before...however we won't be living like lavish kings and queens…I intend on doing important things with the intake."

"What do you mean by that?" she was becoming offended.

"Well we just can't let it get to our heads right away. No shopping sprees and such. You know how you and Lauren are."

"You think I'll let it get to that point?" the agitation in her voice grew faster than hunger to the starved. It was noticeable.

The searing heat of fury felt like scraping metal against her chest, her head was beginning to hurt with piercing thoughts like stabbing knives – mostly assumptions that were pointless. Thrown together like a complicated jigsaw puzzle.

"…I was only joking." He dropped the shovel, refraining from digging the hole deeper.

"I'm sorry…" she replied. The waiter returned.

"Are you doing o.k.?" Chris asked concerned. The waiter sat two wine glasses onto the table.

"I'm really tired…today was a long one." She successfully repressed a manic episode. _Just breathe. Don't forget to breathe._ The medication given for it was merely placebo – at least that's what she had finally begun to believe.

"That's why I brought you here…to get away from all the stress and chaos." He stared deeply into her eyes and noticed that they still held a distraught beauty.

"I know things have been crazy…" Her eyes looked at him as she hoped that he'd say something – anything about his absence. "But…everything will be fine – I know it."

She wished he'd truly known the depths of her grief. At the same time she tried desperately to understand why he did not when it was he who implemented it.

Her faith in him was starting to slim, and with it came the horrible guilt for it happening. She had known Chris for almost twenty years, and for the first time she felt distant from him. Even more so now than she did while he were away. His eyes hid an unconditional want to talk about something important – something she knew pertained to those five dark and lonely months. But alas, there was always something hindering him from speaking. She noticed.

He could notice the anxious jitter in her hand as she lifted the wine glass and slowly moved it towards her lips. She drank a generous amount of the wine and sat the glass back down to the table. He stared at her face and noticed the flicker of the candlelight in her eyes. His gazed moved down her graceful neck unto the flesh of her partially hidden cleavage and then back into her eyes. It seemed to him as though she had not aged for years – she still held her youthfulness more so than even he. For it made her look as though she were still in her mid twenties. It had been a long time since he had seen such beauty.

_Damn I'm a lucky man._

"Duty calls." Her voice ended the wretched silence. She smiled and stood from her seat, he nodded back behind a smiliar smirk.

She adjusted the clingy dress as she walked straight ahead towards the women's bathroom. All around her she could sense the bitter resentment of older women that sat alone, possibly waiting for their jet set husbands to arrive she thought. Perhaps they were running late because of a meeting, or maybe they were stuck in traffic, or maybe they were stuck in between their very young, very attractive, and very "trusting" secretaries.

Maybe that was just racing thoughts.

…_Or __**really**__ good wine._

They took all their anger, jealousy, regrets, and distress out in the form of evil stares and upturned lips at the approach of the alluring figure. A thick somber atmosphere hovered over the area before the bathroom as the voices of caviling women surged from the inside.

_Or maybe it's reality._

_

* * *

_"Truth or Dare."

"What's the use of daring? The only thing to do is to make absurd prank calls and that gets boring fast."

Four cards were held between two folded hands before attentive eyes. "Any fives?"

_Besides…I'm way too old for that._

"Go Fish." Lauren nodded behind a victorious smile. Claire pulled the top card from the deck. A two of hearts.

"You got any threes?"

"Got me again…you're good at this." Claire set the card before the girl.

"Truth then."

"I heard you have a crush."

"NO! Who told you that?" the young girl stood to her feet collecting her last book and the very last of the game.

She scurried all fifty-two cards into a neat stack before returning them to their abode - a small wooden chest that had been used for miscellaneous items that were useless anywhere else except there.

"I've got my sources."

"I know it was Daddy…you don't have to say it."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because Mommy doesn't know and he says that if he finds out who he is, he'll hang him by his shoe laces."

Claire laughed. She stood to her feet promptly at the sound of the first ring of the telephone.

"…besides it's not a crush. He's my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? You have a _boyfriend_? How old are you again?" she walked towards the nearest phone – inside of the kitchen.

"Nine."

"Yeah and pushing thirty." The phone rang a third time.

"Hello…hey, how's it going? Everything is going well here – we've been here the whole time. We ordered in…just some sushi takeout…yeah it was Lauren's idea. Oh no don't worry…she's been nothing but precious…what's that? Oh yeah…I'll have her practice before she goes to bed no problem. It's no problem Jill…really. You know I don't mind looking after her. You guys have a good night…and enjoy the opera…ok…bye."

_Shit._ She ruined the surprise.

"What's the matter?" Babe followed close behind Lauren's entrance into the kitchen. He was linear to her in height and acted as though he knew he could easily knock her down with the mere thump of his head unto her nimble frame.

"I think I just ruined a surprise your Dad had for your Mother."

"Nice going!" Lauren commented.

"I know...I. know…well – better if she knew now than to arrive there and be disappointed."

"Nah…she likes those things."

"Hmm…well then Chris will come in tonight and tear me off a new one. But hey…enough of that…you have some practicing to take care of."

"Ah Claire please don't make me tonight!" she nagged.

"No whining…c'mon you know how it goes. Plus I want to hear how good you've gotten."

"But what if I don't need practice?"

"Are you kidding? Everyone needs practice at something they are good at…" she lowered her hands onto the girl's shoulders as a small token of encouragement; they entered Lauren's bedroom. "Even if it's just violin."

A frustrated sigh followed by a gentle shrug of shoulders. "Alright…"

Lauren entered her closet, a few seconds later she erupted holding a small solid black carrying case. Claire smiled.

"What are you gonna play?" she asked while handling a few music sheets that had been sitting on a small chest. She tried to imagine how each note would sound, recognizing only a few of the silent indicators. In her mind they sounded at the satiny ping of a piano.

"I have to practice a concerto piece, and two sonatas for my recital in two weeks." Lauren opened the case, revealing the violin.

She lifted it out and sat it down to the surface of the bed, then going back into the case she pulled out the bow from a hidden pocket. Claire's eyes studied the instrument as if this had been her first time seeing one up close. She lifted it and held it in both hands carefully, with the same caution one would have while holding a newborn infant. From the scroll all the way down to the chinrest – the design was best to none. The top was made of spruce and painted over with a heavy varnish as to give it a true professional feel. The hourglass shape made it more feminine than any other member of its musical family; immediately it made her wonder how it sounded. Four strings ran the length of the neck, the fingerboard, through the bridge, until they ended at the fine tuners. Beneath the area, the ebony wood that allowed for the strings to be viewed clearer; the river of black flowed down until it narrowed into a small stream, the tailpiece. Finally her stare ended at the chinrest that had been perfectly molded to fit the bottom of Lauren's small face.

She returned her sight to the girl as she held three sheets in her hand. Her small squinted eyes first read the titles and then briefly they scanned over the music.

"I think I'll play this one first." She sat it on a metal stand that stood a few inches below her. _Sonata no. 1 for violin and piano. _Sans the piano of course.

Claire handed her the instrument.

She rested it comfortably between her chin and right shoulder – holding it firmly with her right hand; slowly she brought the bow against the strings with her left hand. It softly sang out one bar; G and F were out of tune.

She adjusted the pegs and ran the bow against the strings once more. G was still not at the correct pitch.

"I hate this string…it never stays in tune."

"Yeah…Bessie was like that." Claire commented.

"Who's Bessie?"

"That's what I called my piano. She was really old, my great-grandmother gave it to my father, and he passed it down to me. Well actually, it was meant for Chris – but of course he never took interest in learning to play." She sat unto the floor in full lotus. "Yep…she always stayed out of tune…especially after we'd get done pouncing on it."

"I thought you said Daddy never played?"

"He didn't but when we were kids – before I could even speak – we had our fun with it." Claire smiled at the memory. "Sometimes we used to pretend like we were playing in an orchestra hall – and that he and I were the best pianists in the world." The smile remained, and the memory briefly lingered in her mind.

"Why'd you call it 'Bessie'? Was that your great-grandmother's name?" Lauren brushed the bow against the strings once more as she studied the first staff of the composition.

"Oh no…her name was Cornelia. Whenever it was pitched perfectly it was the best piano ever. It sounded so beautiful; the antiquity of it gave it so much character, more even than the average piano created today. That's why I called it Bessie - because it was just simply the best. I miss that thing." She remembered it back at home where she grew up – now it no longer existed.

"Did you get lessons?"

"Yeah for a couple of years…"

"Are you good?"

"I'm decent…I can play a few songs. At least the ones I can remember off of my head."

"You should play some – we have one you know?" Lauren implied while lowering the instrument from her shoulder.

"Nice try kiddo…maybe after _you _practice." Claire smiled.

Lauren's focus returned to the sheet music. She cleared her throat, sat the bow down and popped her fingers, releasing the stiffness. "Ok…" she lifted the bow back into position.

The first set of notes were a bit scratchy - she was nervous. She was used to her mother being the person that watched her while she practiced. She often enjoyed an audience however tonight she much preferred to be left alone to practice. She knew however Claire wouldn't leave because of her interest in her skill.

Lauren lowered the bow, frustrated at a missed note.

"It's ok…you're just warming up."

"I'm usually not like this…it rarely sounds _that_ bad."

"Will it help if I stepped out for a sec?" Claire suggested.

Lauren nodded. "No problem…I'll come back in five minutes ok."

"Thanks Claire."

She nodded as she exited Lauren's room recognizing the same bashfulness she once felt as a starting musician. As she entered the kitchen the shallow notes began to slither out gently and follow her. Still scratchy, then slowly it began to smooth out. She smiled at the confidence Lauren had regained at her absence. Claire approached the kitchen sink at the draw of the lone silver band that sat on the windowsill. She recognized the size as too small for a man's hand and automatically assumed it belonged to Jill. She didn't bother touching it, for she didn't want to be the one responsible for misplacing it, there is were she left it. She wandered around the large kitchen drearily until she found comfort by the backdoor. She opened it, allowing Babe to exit behind her.

The cool air of the night swept against her face, brushing away the loose strands of her hair that crowned it. She inhaled before sitting on the porch step that led out to the rest of the yard, Babe stood beside her – his eyes focusing out on the dark horizon.

"What do you see?"

She looked in the direction she believed he was looking in, the distant mountains painted themselves indigo over the night sky. Stars that she hadn't seen since she left America twinkled bright enough to make her feel as though they were simply doing it for her enjoyment. She closed her eyes while leaning back; her arms stretched behind her, bracing the wood of the porch. The sound of silence filled her ears with the decibel similar to an orchestra – it completely dominated. She tilted her head back, allowing the soft strands of her ponytail to brush against the wooded deck. An exhilarated sigh escaped her mouth; it had been months since she had felt this relaxed. Still something lingered about her, Lauren's question echoed in her mind without pause. And all she could remember from it...

"Hey stranger…" Claire opened her eyes at the voice.

Her head turned to see the face she thought she would never see again.

_What are you doing here?_

"That's no way to greet an old comrade…" the cocky smile, the confident eyes. It was him.

She hid the impulse to smile at a sudden rush of excitement.

"She yours?" he asked, approaching her as her back remained turned towards him.

_No. _She paused suddenly. _She's my niece. _

"Chris Redfield…has a kid?"

_He and Jill._

"Jill…as in Jill Valentine?"

_Yeah. Is it that hard to believe?_

He paused, standing beside her. She returned her gaze ahead.

"Yeah…it is."

Claire laughed.

There was a disturbing silence – and it was most disturbing on her end, mostly due to the fact that she knew what he was thinking. _That's the woman's intuition._ She felt his eyes sweep the course of her body and from the corner of her eye she could see his interest.

_Stop it. _

"What?"

_Stop looking at me like that. _She turned to look at him. Amazed at his charm.

Nothing about him had changed besides the length of his hair and the kiss of time onto his face that only made it more appealing. The golden locks now briefly brushed against the tops of his shoulders. Beneath the leather jacket and cotton shirt she could tell he was still his brawny self.

"I can't help it…" he smiled. "It's been too long Claire Redfield." He moved closer.

She remain in her same position, feeling the heat from his body grow as he got nearer.

The musky smell of his cologne grazed her nostrils – it was the first thing she noticed when she met him, and the last thing she didn't wanted to forget. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"You know…I've thought of you and I having one once." He spoke while looking in the same direction as Claire.

_No way in hell. _She spoke behind a deviant smile. He looked at her behind a pleasured one in the same manner.

"I'm serious - you don't think it's possible?"

_You and me…have a kid? That's chaos in bottle. Worse than even…_

"Don't say it." She looked at him without sarcasm in her eyes but with a desperate look of nostalgia. Their eyes locked - much longer than she had hoped.

"I missed you Claire." A gentle finger caressed her cheek.

Babe's bark sounded similar to thunder and jolted her body out of vivid fantasy. A memory she had been cursed with never forgetting. She opened her eyes and recognized that it were only she and the dog.

"What it is pup?"

She followed as he investigated the lawn.

Her eyes remained at his back as he gathered the scent of whatever he thought was out there. She looked to the sky once more, and noticed the boundlessness of the stars. They looked as though they were a blanket set over the world as to keep all those within warm and in a state of holiday. To Claire, this was soma.

"Do you love me?" it echoed at the back of her mind.

"Do you love me Claire?" Labored breathing behind trembling lips, closed eyes from the overwhelming pleasure holding back tears of joy and an assuring nod – he spoke once more.

"Say it. Say that you love me."

_I…I love you. _Hands caress the soft body beneath a soft sheen of sweat; lips go in for the kill, attacking the graceful neck. The auburn locks scattered as a halo unto cotton sheets. The gentle sigh of pleasure. The scream out for more. The exhilaration of being loved and the exhaustion of giving it. Arms wrap around the lover as the head lies upon the bosom of the loved. The gentle rise and fall of victory of a war that could not be won by one side alone. A war of the lovers. She breathe laboriously – with his head being pushed up as she inhaled and brought back down at the exhale.

"I told you I'd find you again…" the smile that could melt ice. The look of satisfaction hiding the hunger for more.

"Claire!" The name faded into a harpy screech.

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready." Lauren stood by the door using her frame to keep it ajar. Babe walked back towards the house at the sound of her announcement.

"O.k. I'll be a sec."

"What are you doing out here?"

"Just thinking."

Lauren turned and walked back into the house, the door involuntarily shut behind her. Claire remain standing in the same position, her thoughts at the same point. It was the day Leon stepped back into her life as well as the night she had given in to him. She wasn't a daydreamer yet her emotions often led her to that exact place.

She sighed before returning her gaze onto the house. Slowly she began walking towards the porch.

* * *

"Claire said something about an opera…" Curious eyes stared out beyond manufactured glass at the passing scenery. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

He remained silent – but behind a tight-lipped smile. It was cocky, much to his own enjoyment – he was keeping something to himself.

Jill stared at him. Reading his silence as he continued driving. "What?" he asked.

"Are you taking me to an opera?" she asked without hesitation.

He looked over to her, and as they slowly approached the inner parts of Uptown, he answered.

"Yeah." His smile was more relaxed. They continued the drive ahead, slowly – the elaborate building of the opera house appeared before them.

--

The construction was colossal – filled to the brim with elaborate fixations that could easily pass as original European masterpieces. It was of French design and heavily influenced by the Palais Garnier – the very last place she remembered seeing an opera. The concert hall extended a 'gazillion' miles up, as she could almost hear Lauren's calculation. Jill's eyes ran the course of the path leading from the entrance up to the stage. The seating stretched the length in an intense ocean of vermilion.

"Here we are…"

"Center floor. You got us center floor seats?" a surprised whisper.

The lights began to fade as the last of those who were tardy bashfully lowered themselves into their seats. Silence introduced a powerful clash that filled the massive room with the robust sound of perfection. In unison – each note, each string, each woodwind, each brass, and percussion – all on cue and at the same point. The composer stood below on the lowest level beneath the stage before the orchestra. The heavy curtains were primrose and were irradiated by lights that were set at the foot of the stage. They were drawn, creating a wall of desperation, anxiety to see what was on the other side of them. A gentle pause of the music and soon erupted the sweltering voice of the songstress. The curtains lifted and at the same time the lights faded into darkness. The stage lit up the hall with glory that was almost mystic. The woman stood at the left side; her head slightly tilted back with the assertive eyes at a close. The voice that poured from her lips had power to shake even those who had watched from the high balconies that aligned the walls around the room.

The spotlight gleamed onto her angelic form as she sang in unison with the music. At the shadows around her, watching eyes could see movement. Jill focused onto the surrounding area – she noticed that people were standing around her. Soon after the stage slowly began to come back to life. There were four other people surrounding the singer, all singing in unison with her.

_Beautiful. _

She closed her eyes and allowed the music to take her away. Away from the problems, away from the pain, from the exhaustion, and the unsettling thoughts.

The tenors began to sing, two of them, dressed as Pilgrim men. They lowered themselves unto their knees in front of two of the women who were dressed as Quakers. The last of the group was the first singer. Jill opened her eyes at the cue of the women's voices. They were backing away, in a refusing manner, as the men continued to approach them. The language was without a doubt German. It sounded familiar. It was something she had seen before.

_Die Drei Verärgerten Frauen_. (The Three Angry Women)

It was a story of fate – broken families – a marriage gone wrong and a disloyal husband. She found it intriguing when she first saw it in Berlin, mostly because of the music but furthermore it reminded her of growing up in a dishonest home. Often times to a tee.

After some time, three of the characters had left the stage. Leaving a man and a woman.

With almost no emotion – the woman began singing. She was sitting alone, with her back facing the man. Her voice was chilling, cold – as if she were beyond sadness. The words could only be translated by those who understood. But from the emotion one could tell they were harmful – the truth. The type of truth that could change a person with tremendous effect. Jill turned to look at Chris whom continued watching. Her eyes remain at his profile for some time as the man began to sing. She desired the truth; more than anything. More than her job, dinner, his promotion, this opera, and even her life at this moment.

_Why…why did you leave Chris? What are you hiding from me?_

The question was burning the back of her skull yet she had no other choice but to keep it contained. She returned her gaze to the performance unable to gather the strength of asking and continued creating her own answers. A harsh breath escaped her nostrils. A warm hand landed onto hers. The eyes focus down unto her lap and back up to his face. She smiled, and placed her free hand atop of his.

"Brings back memories doesn't it?" he whispered into her ear.

She shook her head – frozen at the memory. The roaring voices attacked the crowd with fierceness as a nuclear wipeout. It caused all that could hear it to stare up frightfully at the incredible power that erupted out of the small-framed woman. Her voice smothered that of the man, simply because she was obviously more emotional than he. The two characters faced each other, still with power. As they neared each other's faces their voices softened until they had nothing to say. At the point of union, the woman sang once more then she turned and walked away – leaving the man there to stand in the darkness – alone and forgotten. She knew the feeling - too well.

Jill looked on and at a sudden blink came the slow trickle of a tear.


	5. Histoire

**This chapter contains SPOILERS! Read at your own risk. **

**5**

_[…] There are many incidents that occur within our lifetime that we intentionally long to forget. Mostly due to the outcome of their nature or what I would like to call its "historic affect"- the emotional state that is endured afterward. Thoughts may suddenly come to mind like 'Pearl Harbor' or 'The Great Depression' or perhaps one with a more ruthless affect similar to the assassination of the 35__th__ President of the United States of America. These are the types of memories that will never leave and will seek shelter in the dark pockets of our subconscious where they will only attain freedom at each reminiscent attempt (thought). They haunt us as though they had recently happened each time they course the fields of our thoughts. Nostalgia undisputedly washes over you like a tsunami – it takes with it all of your dignity, pride, and sense of freedom as it recedes only to return more devastating than the prior. _

_Tragedy comes in several forms and continuously reveals itself unexpectedly throughout what is called American History. It varies from time as well as victory (or in other words 'masked loss') it can be dated as far back as books will allow. "Columbus sails the Ocean Blue" an early childhood phrase that hides certain ramifications that are most commonly unseen by most who have memorized it. It is probably one of the first tragic incidents of this country's history – a bloody war that harshly passed as a sacred and compromising covenant. A land that was literally taken away from its natives - most people would argue that it was indeed a legal operation, that the Natives merely surrendered the land without a fight. Others will argue that it was a situation that was undoubtedly unfair and that it is the reason for the country's current state and skewed views towards politics, laws, and justice. With this being said one would presume that tragedy is the reason for the constant change amongst laws and the government in general, but perhaps, amongst them, it is sort of favorable outcome. _

_With tragedy inconspicuously comes fear – of course many would argue otherwise but these clearly go hand and hand. Fear is one of the most astounding of the human emotions simply because it is capable of controlling all else. The way one thinks, eats, decides, lives, works, and etcetera – all capable of being controlled by fear. It is an institution that has enticed the minds of the elite – the most powerful controllers of society - perhaps in more sinister ways than the average citizen is capable of imagining. Reality, is that fear itself has the power of making people believe anything at its mercy. One will believe in just about anything if their very well being or life is at stake. It has been proven in a multitude of incidents. Hitler's Nazi regime would probably be the best example of this, especially when he even mentions this himself. It is tremendously dangers when a single person obtains the power to control the belief structure of an entire nation of people. Fear blackens one's ability to see the light – that is the truth – beyond a horrific tunnel of deception. Tragedy prevails – as it always does. Fear completely brainwashes an entire nation into believing that its citizens have the power to select those who lead them – when it is undoubtedly the other way around. People continue to surrender to a faceless government who thrives on the fear of the people as a way of maintaining order. _

_As mentioned before, tragedy in American History ranges from the early days of Europe's settlement – disease - rape and pillage of this land, the dreadful days of slavery, the Vietnam War, even the unforgettable assassinations of such individuals such as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and John F. Kennedy. The sheer memories of these incidents yield the power to drive a certain gripping chill up the spine. The fear you feel after experiencing incidents like these implant the memory into your mind like a still photograph onto a wall. However, this changes over time – incredibly. One tragedy in particular seems far less affective than those haunting incidents of the distant past. Almost as though they never happened. _

_When the year 1998 comes to mind, one may think of a million things to describe the span of time whether it's memories of experiences, relationships, new jobs, old boyfriends, etcetera. One would never think of it as the year that changed the direction of America's future. No. Not when 2000 was only two years away. While most were two years ahead of themselves – stocking and barricading their basements and pantries with rice, water, and boxed goods – many were fighting - simply to see the following day. Many didn't. Survive that is._

_[It is a year that I will never forget.] _

_Umbrella Corporation – the name rings a bell like the somber alert of mass on a gentle Sunday morning. It may sound familiar to most and that is mostly due to the fact that it is now a name that will only pass one's speech if read out of a history book. It was once a name that headlined every periodical on what was formerly the Midwest. Almost ten years later it is literally passed on as a myth – as if it were merely a fairytale – a dream. The truth is it was in fact someone's dream, and it definitely existed. Three powerful minds shared this dream and like everyone else, they exhibited fear and with that came the alluring desire for corruption. Therefore allowing them to become both victims and successors of tragedy. These brilliant minds (perhaps beyond their own apprehension) obviously wanted more than just power, but to understand the components in the initiation and continuation of an epidemic. "Survival of the Fittest"- Darwin would conveniently declare. So now, the long tumble into the rabbit hole that extends deep within the reserved archives of the United States Government. _

_It was the memorable year 1968 when founders Ozwell E. Spencer, Dr. James Marcus, and Dr. Edward Ashford decided they'd each have a hand in changing the world. They had then referred to their precious infant as Umbrella Chemical Inc. – literally, a secret kept amongst three parents as though they were creating a monster and desired nothing more than to keep it's existence amongst themselves. In the books they are commended as great founders of a once powerful and successful pharmaceutical company – that only mentions of a sudden collapse, without mentioning anything further than that. The truth however speaks otherwise. The corporation played a major part in both national and international markets. It grew quite powerful and eventually became a mega corporation that set the controls for one of the world's most horrifying catastrophes. Spencer – a former billionaire and apparent president of the corporation – is the very top of the iron pyramid. According to such records as the official memoir of the corporation, Spencer worked feverishly with Dr. Marcus as well as Dr. Ashford in what would be the corporation's first success. The three had spent most of the 60's conducting work on the strain of a very powerful virus that would later prove itself loyal to that description. _

_The 'Progenitor' strain – the mother of all that succeeded was created sometime toward the end of 1967, marking the start of the corporation. It proved its own success – meeting the men's expectations. It predominantly won the consummate mind and eye of Dr. Ashford – who desired to use the strain towards medicinal practices. He believed that its regenerative abilities could generally help in eliminating common diseases. He fell ill unexpectedly and inconveniently acquired an infection after injecting himself with the virus - using himself as the first test subject. This unfortunate occurrence eventually led him to his untimely death in the following year. The residual men continued to work feverishly on the project. Marcus eventually became head researcher. However unlike using it to aid humanity - as Ashford had hoped, they desired to use it towards the engineering of biological weaponry as intended for primary use in chemical warfare. Together, with the nearly indestructible 'Progenitor' virus literally at their grasps, they began constructing new strains from the old. _

_T-virus_

_The 'Tyrant' virus as it is so appropriately named, was created in the Arklay Forest – deep inside of Umbrella's facility in the Midwestern United States. Marcus along with two Umbrella trainees successfully completed the synthesis of the 'Progenitor' strain with the DNA of leeches. Their original intent was to create the ultimate Bio-Organic Weapon that could be sent into an enemy's territory where it will undoubtedly proclaim the power of its name. The project was fully completed sometime at the end of 1978, according to official document_s. _It should be noted that during this time Umbrella had begun to enter the beginning stages of an empire – establishing facilities worldwide. By the late 70's, Umbrella grew even stronger and literally became a powerhouse._

_Spencer knighted Marcus as director of Umbrella's Training Facility sometime after Ashford's death - allowing him full control of operations. Of course he quickly grew into this newly established power, demanding more control and resources to improve his work. This brought about great dissension between the two and would later lead Spencer to take desperate measures he believed would save the corporation from leaving the ravenous grips of his hands. To compensate their losses, Spencer ordered the creation of a virus with 100% effectiveness. Thus came about the conception of the T-virus. _

_The virus itself, as mentioned before, is the result of synthesizing the 'Progenitor' or 'Mother' with leech DNA. According to official documents, the virus has a protein structure and although it has different attributes, it primarily acts the same as any other virus. The virus itself literally consumes the hosts DNA, which immediately alters it thereafter. The infection occurs in a number of phases, depending on the size of the host._

_If the host is alive at the time of infection, they will undergo a very painful process that will eventually lead them to their death. However, as rash as it sounds, the host then reawakens and is anything other than human. _

_The process (or phases) at which the host endures after infection are as follows: (in the order of a normal infection in a human host that is alive)_

_1. The host experiences nausea – which will eventually worsen the longer the virus is within the body. _

_2. Eventually the host looses all motor skills, and the ability to do most common things such as standing, walking, and even speaking. The senses are also depleted at this stage._

_3. High brain functions are eventually destroyed, leaving the cerebrum to control the host's volatile behavior. The hypothalamus is then destroyed (which is primarily responsible for linking the two most important systems within the human body - the nervous and endocrine systems) which adds an overflow of hormones thus, increasing the effectiveness of the infection. With all this being said the host experiences not only excruciating pain, but also a horrifying rage and a tenacious hunger, which adds tremendously to the host's already aggressive behavior. Once the infection has completely consumed the DNA of its host, it will then set forth the very last stage – which literally could be characterized as the 'zombie' stage. It sounds terrifying and perhaps too ridiculous to believe, but it is very true. The host develops cellular necrosis, which is the accumulation of dead skin cells within living tissue, they 'black out' for a period of time, and once the host regains consciousness they exhibit an intense need to feed in order to regain energy and to resist loosing their own tissue. _

_They literally lust for the flesh and blood of the living – healthy human beings.. From that point on, if the host continues to survive beyond the final stages, the mutations will progress and a more destructive host will be reborn. _

_Most of the research occurred at the home base in Arklay – however Spencer's Umbrella regime in Europe had already begun to attack Marcus – racing to create a more destructive strain of the virus than what had already existed. In response, Marcus stepped away from his work at the desire to overthrow Spencer's powerful force and lustful attitude towards the virus' use as a money wielder. However, he never succeeded as he was soon assassinated under the order of Spencer as it is later revealed. New strains were created after the event of Marcus' death – and the credit for the creation of the T-virus was unjustly given to William Birkin and Albert Wesker – the two recruits that studied under Marcus' close watch during the first stages of the project. _

_Experiments were held on numerous test subjects to see the rapid effects of the virus and how it changes the overall chemistry of its victims. The first being the daughter of well-known and late architect - George Trevor; the man that designed the Spencer Mansion which initially served as the smokescreen that led into the entrance of Umbrella's underground facility in the Arklay Forest. Eventually, and quite predictably, Birkin became over confident with being regarded as the virus' original creator and began utilizing more subjects for tests with the intent of creating an entire army of BOW's (Bio-Organic Weapon). This will ensure a definite death ratio wherever the virus was to be released. These weapons were monstrous, some even baring haunting names such as 'Hunter' or 'Chimera' or the most devastating and frightening of them all – 'Tyrant'. From the tainted body of Lisa Trevor, Birkin attained the G-virus – a new and more powerful strain of 'Mother'. Lisa would later prove to be Birkin's first success in the creation of a new strain from 'Mother' – she endured torture for nearly thirty years which left her body literally a melting pot of disease. He eventually had her disposed of after gathering all that he had needed. _

_For almost two decades, the research continued quietly deep within Umbrella's foxhole – until finally, in the year 1998 the T-virus was mysteriously released throughout the Arklay Facilities and the surrounding forest area. Numerous accusations of what caused the sudden outbreak poured from many sources, some saying that it was a freak accident on Birkin's part and some even mentioning that it was a haunting spite of revenge set on by a reawakened and reanimated Marcus. His body fully revitalized from the powerful strains of the earliest version of the T-virus, proving the amazing power of the original strain – 'Mother'. In response to this, Umbrella sent in a platoon to destroy the virus - they failed and in turn became consumed by it. Dispatches were then sent to the neighboring town, Raccoon City, where many reports of missing civilians bustled – most of them pertaining to hikers who never returned from the forest. […] Raccoon will go down in history as the very first American city to have been destroyed by it's own government. _

_Raccoon City_

"…_constants are always changing here…there is always room for improvement. This is the city that dreams and they, like the good people of this town, will never die." – Mayor Michael Warren_

_At the base of the Arklay Mountains, ten thousand feet of pure glory (at its highest peak) once sat a peaceful town. A town that was as liberal as the mountains that cradled it deep within their warm and protecting embrace. It began as a small working town with a population of only five hundred or less. The town's most promising attribute was that it plumed of natural resources, mostly due to the encampment of the surrounding Arklay Mountains – which proved to be one of the major selling points for the Umbrella Corporation. Eventually it began to change as did time. After the Second World War – and the induction of the Baby Boom generation – the town began to grow. More and more people moved in and with that came the demand for more resources. More jobs. More opportunity. _

_In the mid 60's the town began to undergo a more rapid change and by the end of the 70's the population nearly tripled. This was closely observed by Raccoon's most prominent politician – Michael Warren – who at that time was a skillful technician and held dreams of seeing a dawdling town flourish into something more. He brought to Raccoon things that would undoubtedly jolt the city into a new era. The introduction of the cable car helped in many ways in terms of transportation. He saved the citizens of the town hundreds of dollars, especially those who could not afford an automobile. He's also credited as the man who brought about electricity to the town – which lowered the number of fires that were ignited by oil lamps. It wasn't until 1987, the year of his propitious campaign that he decided to allow further advancements of the city. He approached the Umbrella Corporation, making a deal with them – allowing them control of his funding and operations; giving the corporation total control over most - if not all - of the cities utilities. He coined the project "A Bright 21__st__ century for the city of Raccoon." The city then grew from a rural community into a bustling metropolis. _

_He established institutions for the greater good as a result of this project, such as the Raccoon City Police Department. […]_

_The Raccoon City Police Department, one of the major strongholds within the newly refurbished city, came about in the mid to late 80's under the direct administration of Chief Brian Irons. […] The town grew and it brought about more crime – which gave reason for the establishment of the Special Tactics and Rescue Service in 1994, RPD's countermeasure in helping with the ongoing problem. S.T.A.R.S as they were appropriately named, served as a single force divided into two units – Alpha Team and Bravo Team. _

_(Initially, during an incident the first to be sent to investigate would be Bravo, and if no response from the unit on their whereabouts returns to HQ within a certain amount of time, Alpha is then sent in to investigate their wellbeing. That is at least protocol.) Although they helped with street crimes, they primarily focused on more organized and cult-like crimes – setting them apart from normal police duties. _

_**July 22-23, 1998**_

_**Incident at Arklay Forest**_

_The very first field mission for a few of the members of STARS and the very last for most of them. _

_The lush forest that surrounded the Arklay Mountains, the once humble escape from societal chaos, became a site of an unclassifiable horror. Families had made reports in the previous weeks about missing relatives who had gone to the forest and never returned - some for weeks even. Bizarre reports began to appear from within the woodwork soon after that. Reports of people becoming victims of cannibalism – most instances occurring at campsites within the forest. Accepting it as an act of a cult - Bravo Team was sent in the evening of the final report. (A woman supposedly went for a walk in the woods with her dog and never returned home for dinner). _

_Bravo hadn't made a response back to headquarters and the following day the Alpha Team was sent in to respond and rescue. Both teams were oblivious to what was actually happening. The incidents that followed are almost unbelievable and cannot be put into simple words for the reader to understand. Those tragic events that occurred at Arklay can only be brought to life through the words of the very people who survived the ordeal. _

_The following paragraphs (in quotation) were taken from the highly classified and beefy report, __Umbrella: Code Red__, and are the actual words of the few who had survived the wrath of Umbrella._

"_When we arrived over the Arklay Forest, just a few miles outside of Raccoon City, we began experiencing malfunctions, mostly dealing with technical problems with the chopper that carried us. We attempted to contact HQ, and after the third time we decided to give up. We prepared for a crash landing. None of us were injured – just a little shook up. Anyway, we gathered whatever items we could from the mangled chopper, wished 'goodluck' upon our pilots who remained within the chopper for a possible response from HQ, and set up a tight perimeter thereafter. The area was gigantic and it seemed as though the dense encampment of trees stretched on forever. Eventually, we split up and began a search for any survivors of a transport vehicle we came across that had been in an accident. We obtained files from the vehicle that mentioned what exactly was being transported – an ex marine and convicted felon. They were en route when the accident occurred - the bodies of the guards where scattered around the vehicle, the prisoner was gone – we took this as a lead, and began an investigation to find him. _

_We split up._

_As I walked through the dreary aisles of the forest I couldn't help but to be overwhelmed by near silence and gentle howls of distant coyotes. The forest looked absolutely harmless, I didn't come across any victims of the bizarre murders reported; I even started to feel as though they were fake, some pranksters idea of toying with the scared Raccoonians – it was almost twenty minutes of absolutely nothing - yet there was still a blood curdling thought that they could've really occurred. Eventually, I stumbled onto a very unusual site – a train, at a complete stop on tracks in the very center of the forest. I had never known a railroad to exist back there. The side of the cars still glimmered of the wax that was probably applied before it's departure at wherever it was first stationed. It read 'Ecliptic Express' and next to that the small emblem of the Umbrella Corporation. I checked and most of the doors where locked, some even jammed shut from the inside. Finally, I managed to find an unlocked door. _

_I stepped inside and looked around – the car was completely silent and predominantly empty. The elegant chandeliers that decorated the ceiling were still burning in full force and I noticed a certain linger of cigar smoke that had long burned itself out yet the scent was the only proof of its existence. It was evident that the train had been only sitting here for a short amount of time. As I walked towards the southern end of the car, I heard movement stir about behind me. I turned and at the opposite end I saw a tall figure. He seemed to just stand there and stare back at me at first, I announced for him to stay where he was, asked him who he was, what he was doing here, and what exactly happened to this train. He responded to neither of my questions, and began to walk towards me. I pointed my handgun at him as he slowly made his way towards the center of the car. I yelled for him to stop and he disregarded it, continuing to pursue me. I fired a single shot – he stopped, groaned painfully and continued walking towards me. Another shot, to his shoulder - the same response. He was nearly twenty feet before me and every shot that I had planted into him seemed to do absolutely nothing. He held out his arms in a Frankenstein-like manner, as he got closer, I caught a glimpse of his face beneath the light of the nearest chandelier. I could not believe the sight - both of his eyes were solid dead gray, his face was distorted and red of blood that had seemed to come out of every place it could. His mouth was open and his breath smelled like rotting flesh – I could smell it from where I stood. His clothes were as tattered as the parts of his body that they had been torn from, and two fingers on his left hand looked as though they had been bitten off. I ordered him to stop once more and fired the final shot when I noticed he had made it quite close to my position with no intention of stopping. A single headshot and he was down. I reported the incident to my fellow teammates and hoped that at least one of them would come and assist me. _

_It seemed immediately after the moment I spoke the last words into the radio, the room literally came to life. I looked straight ahead and noticed at both sides of the aisle two passengers that had been collapsed on the floor (and away from my early investigative eye) stand to their feet. They behaved in the same manner as the man, moving slowly and groaning painfully – like him, they began walking towards me. A woman and a man. The woman's dress was torn from the top down and deep scratches cut across the decomposed flesh of her chest. The man was dressed casually; his clothes had not been ripped or torn but where soaked in blood. A gaping hole occupied the right side of his neck; however it no longer bled – as though his body had completely run out of blood. I was suddenly confused at the situation. What happened to the passengers? Why weren't they responding? Why were they approaching me as they did? What the hell happened here?"_

_The very first mission for the youngest of STARS – even after all that she had survived; she still manages to speak calmly about the horrific events that she endured that night. The Ecliptic Express was en route to Umbrella's Training Facility when it suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest. Everyone on board was presumed dead; the causes of death were related to an infection of the T-virus. According to the report, dead bodies of leeches were found all over the train amongst other corpses, and contained high levels of the virus. This may have been the cause of the train's sudden halt. When the young officer noticed the passengers regaining their lives back – she immediately found herself in a predicament she had never imagined. She goes into further detail about the incident as she and a man identified as the ex-marine and convict, managed to escape the train together and find brief refuge in Umbrella's nearby Training Facility. That is where the two became confronted with the same horror that they had hoped they'd left behind in the train. _

_[…]_

"_He wore dog tags: one with the name C. Crawford and another that read B. Coen. I remembered from that transport vehicle, reading the name 'Billy Coen' on the file that lay beside one of the dead guards. It was him- I remembered his mug shot as well. I was afraid at first that I couldn't trust him, and for some reason I immediately thought that he had something to do with what happened back there on that train. But it made no sense. How could he take out an entire train – and what exactly did he do to the passengers? I stopped asking myself once I realized that he too hadn't a clue as to what was going on. _

_We managed to find an entrance into a building that looked to be owned by Umbrella – like the Ecliptic Express. It was an enormous mansion – at least that's what it looked to be. A giant portrait of Dr. Marcus was the first that could be seen hanging in the main lobby just beneath the mezzanine that led up to the second level. Like the train, every light burned as they normally would, silence engulfed the entire room, and we saw no signs of living – or dead. _

_Here is where we discovered other creatures that had been infected. Billy gave me all the information he knew about what happened to the people on the train. He said something pertaining to a virus and that it was the reason behind the passengers strange behaviors. He said that at some point it even killed them and brought them back to life with a frightening hunger for the blood and flesh of those who weren't infected. I wasn't afraid at first, but after finding out how easy it could be transferred - suddenly the night became more frightening. He said that if either one of us were to get bitten by one of those things that the other better be brave and quick enough to take the other out. That's when everything hit me – those bizarre murders, our helicopter crashing, the Ecliptic Express – this seemed far worse than I imagined it could be. At first it seemed there was absolutely no escaping this horror. We made our way through the facility, most of the infected were personnel judging by the lab coats and nametags they wore and most of the creatures where obviously their experiments. Many of them were gigantic. It took heavy artillery and firepower to rid of them. We managed to scavenge all that we could in terms of weapons and rations. Then finally, just as we thought we had made it through – something strange happened. A creature – stronger than all that we had encountered confronted us. We had a feeling this would be the final nightmare – the ending to a hellish adventure. Billy and I later found out that the creature was in fact Dr. Marcus - infected and reborn by this virus. Before he attacked us, he explained the components to the complex virus and how the leeches that were inside of the train and training facility were merely products of its existence. He referred to them as his children. He also went into detail about the events after the creation of this virus – how his colleagues became intimidated by his work and eventually killed him. He explained that it was the leeches that made it possible for him to embrace life once more and from then on he would become their leader and they his tools of destruction. He wanted nothing more than revenge on Umbrella and the world for that matter. _

_It was very odd, he looked significantly younger in person than he did on the portrait that hang in the main hall and showed no obvious sign of weakness. Eventually he evolved into something far worse – he grew into a massive leech like creature – showing the virus' true nature. We fought with everything we had and finally he fell, only to evolve into something more hideous. He became stronger; his body completely withstood our attacks leaving us with no other option but to use other resources. Only the ultraviolet rays of the sun were strong enough to inflict damage upon him. We fought him off during our escape from the bowels of the facility and finally Billy took him out after what seemed like forever once Marcus absorbed an adequate amount of sunlight. We survived – I decided to let Billy go without any concern of arresting him – he did save my life, and it was the least I could do. That was the last that I had seen or heard from him. I still hadn't received any response from my colleagues – I found a desolate mansion just a few miles from the training facility. I assumed it was another of Umbrella's hidden treasures within the forest and hoped to God that only my teammates where inside – waiting to regroup. But then again…I hope they weren't. What if that same hell, was also in this place?" _Date – unknown. Part 1 (Pgs. 5-105) of Umbrella: Code Red.

_She found a place to rest - in the mysterious Spencer Estate - the gargantuan mansion that hid the very core of the T-virus' existence as well as all of its hellish creations. She hadn't received any contact from her teammates but later was reacquainted with the team's communications expert. He had found her sleeping in the Guard's Residence of the mansion. Together the two of them attempted to search for their commander. _

_Eventually, Alpha Team arrived and generally found themselves within a terrible situation. Most of their comrades were murdered, and their only option was to seek protection in the mansion. They endured a nightmare of their own and eventually rendezvoused with their fellow teammates. Out of an original fleet of 13, only 5 returned to Raccoon. _

"_[…] It was gigantic – old décor, massive columns, a flying catwalk, and a grand staircase that led up to the second level. An eerie silence swept about the entire room, only interrupted by the pounding footsteps of thunder outside. Lightening pulsated through the room, making every shadow look as though it were solid form for the brief second of its existence. Our footsteps, labored breathing, and sweat covered brows – we stand around, staring at each other and to the place that is now our only refuge. Our colleagues, the ones that didn't make it in with us – we only prayed that they'd found a better place to rest. What the hell was wrong with those dogs? I've seen angry dogs, some even infected with rabies – but NEVER have I seen anything like that. I don't think any of us have. _

_My eyes move from the commander, to the Gun, and finally to the Key. She looks as confused as me, yet her confidence outshines her animosity. She smiles at me with that 'everything will be fine' glare in her eye. 'At least that's what you SHOULD believe' she looks away at the sound of distant gunfire. We are ordered to investigate in a nearby room: The Key, The Gun, and Me – The Eye. The room is as massive as the main hall – a dining table stretched its length and ended at a giant fireplace that still housed burning flames. The room was completely empty, only the random presence of a lone typewriter posing as the only sign of human existence. The distant tick of a clock echoes throughout the room, symbolizing the stubborn continuation of time and how it waits for no one – not even the dead. We hear another gunshot – a lot closer than before. Three barrels (two 'Sammy Edges', one .44 Magnum) pointed softly at a door at the far end nearest the fireplace. I enter first - the Key standing close behind me. The Gun stays within the dinning hall to investigate a patch of remains that had been left to marinate by the fire. _

_She and I walk deeper into the corridor – the pungent smell of death entering our nostrils the more we enter. We notice a person hunched over, looking as though he had been indulging in a feast. Beneath him lay the decapitated body of one of our teammates – K. Sullivan. The being stood to its feet, turned towards us slowly – the blood and flesh of its victim dangling from its lips like strings of spaghetti to an appreciative child. One head shot, and two others stood to their feet behind us. The Key - and her keen intuition took out the nearest. We pulled back and just as we moved through the dining room, the upper floor began to ripple about with life. Many beings – perhaps the residents – hanging from the balcony above, their mouths watering for the taste of our flesh. What the hell happened here? It wasn't until we reached the main hall that we realized how deep in shit we really were. Where the hell is Wesker?" _

_[…]_

"_In the final moments before the destruction of the old Spencer mansion – all of us that remained managed to get in contact with our Pilot. We managed to escape they dark levels of the basement – we found the helipad, and there is were we waited for the chopper. We held a tight perimeter – our guns aimed at the creature identified as the Tyrant – he survived the first confrontation. What the hell is this thing? He stood almost 7 feet tall, his skin faded from a pale blue (earlier) to a fleshy hue. His beating heart, perched on the outside of his chest, seemed to pump harder, more aggressively than before. His strength and speed was almost unavoidable – making him an even greater threat along with the death-dealing claw at the end of his arm. We managed to keep him at bay in the very center of the helipad. Finally, our Pilot arrived, and with the much-appreciated arrival of the rocket launcher we were able to dispose of this thing. We managed to escape in the nick of time and approximately 20 seconds later – the mansion was gone. Vanished - beyond a monstrous cloud of debris and darkness against the rising sun. All the evil, the sheer horror, the unexplainable; every moment of the living nightmare – gone. _

_We arrived back to Raccoon only to have the books slammed shut and laughs thrown at our faces. No one believed the hell that we all underwent, and the blame for our missing comrades was heftily placed on all those who returned from Arklay. We were responsible for making sure the mission was complete, and that ALL members of the unit return to Raccoon in one piece. When it was our leader that led us in and left us to die thereafter - it was solely his responsibility for the deaths of our teammates. Suddenly our badges felt heavier than they normally did, our Chief mocked us – striped us of our duties and attempted to humiliate and degrade us as officers 'who left their teammates behind due to their own fears of dying'. For the first time in my life, I felt the same rage as an innocent suspect. It felt as though I were the mouse within the trap - my hands not even close to the mouthwatering piece of cheese that my eyes were originally set upon – and suddenly, a horrid pain that would only fade away with my life. Eventually, I realized giving up all that I had believed in felt more like regaining my own dignity. At this moment I figured out the truth – it was a game and we were the pawns. The world needs to know just what happened up there, and the truth behind the master corporation: Umbrella." _

Date – August 1998 – Part 2 (Pgs. 105 – 425) from Umbrella: Code Red.

_Several months had passed and an Umbrella still hovered over the sleeping town of Raccoon, the virus that had succumbed the Spencer Mansion as well as the entire Arklay Forest soon emerged in areas close to Raccoon until finally it bled into the streets of the city in late September. According to official reports, the virus was once again released and presumably passed along via underground tunnels beneath the forest range and city. It seems the overlooked and underappreciated strain, G-virus (that which was taken from Lisa Trevor's body), was the new treasure of Umbrella's eye. A paramilitary unit was sent back into the forest to gather all that had been left after the destruction of the Spencer Mansion. Birkin's subterranean labs withstood a great amount of damage set by the explosion, sparing him as well as his research. Like his predecessor, Dr. Marcus, Birkin's life ended where he once believed it began. All his hopes and dreams, the blood, sweat, and care he put into his research - now shattered by the same bullets that he had worked feverishly for. As always the virus proves it's uncontrollable nature, as it escaped the protective grips of its creator's hands and into a new thriving place – the sewers. It would then begin its process of destroying all that crossed its path – the first in its course being Raccoon. _

_**September 30, 1998 **_

_**Incident at Raccoon City**_

_It took approximately a week for the outbreak to maintain its momentum and then finally, it surpassed all control and conquered the city. The first signs of the outbreak occurred a few days prior – beginning at a hospital where many people complained of severe nausea – few had gone deaf, blind, and even mute - others died. ALL of them were infected. By September 24, the entire city had fallen into the harrowing depths of hell. The first to respond to the chaos was none other than the Umbrella Corporation (a helpful way of keeping their involvement secret). They ordered the evacuation of the city as well as the deployment of the Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service to help in civilian welfare (along with RPD). Neither had been trained to handle such incidents as this and eventually the virus killed them as well as a great amount of innocent civilians. Barricades were set up to keep all threats from leaving the city – they soon failed as the numbers of infected increased by the hour. By the eve of September 30, the city had seen almost majority of its population either succumbed to the infection or murdered by its BOW's. […]_

_The night of September 30 - the night that changed everything. Every action and attempt at aid set by the Umbrella Corporation failed - leaving their credibility as the guardians of hope for the city of Raccoon, at stake. A vile decision was made amongst the heads of the corporation that primarily dealt with the use of a secret project to settle the unrest. The Nemesis Project. An offshoot of Dr. Marcus' research and development of the T-virus, the Nemesis is none other than a product of plagiarism. Umbrella's research team in Europe developed a new strain of the T-variant virus, one that would maintain the original attributes set on by the virus in its host but would allow for it's strength to enhance without compromising the original attributes. This project would prove to be the most lethal of them all. Originally, it was sent in to rid the city of any remaining survivors of the Arklay incident (STARS), for fear of them reporting all that they had experienced and revealing the truth behind Umbrella's work. This also failed, as the creature known simply as 'Nemesis', fell under the gunfire of its target. The city was still chaotic - as the numbers of casualties steadily reached an all time high with no sign of ending. The borders along the neighboring cities were overrun with infected, and all those who attempted to hold them off only became victims of a horrendous rage. _

_[…] With no other option, the U.S government decided the best way (they believed) to handle the situation. They contemplated in a matter of hours and initiated Mission Code XX - an air strike – much to the extent of Hiroshima. The next morning, October 1, a single missile flew across the once desolate skies of Raccoon City, capturing the eyes of those infected and fighting for survival. At approximately 6:45am – it landed and incinerated the entire area. It permanently 'sterilized' the city. The death toll exceeded 100, 000 - and all those who survived would live on to eventually see the story of the fallen city fade away with time. _

_The Aftermath_

_An on slaw of outbreaks began to arouse in many places around the world and eventually the markets that were formerly led by the powerful corporation began to stagger until finally it collapsed; leaving all of Umbrella's assets available to the public and other wealth-hunting companies). This was set on by the lack of civilian trust that later led to the initial decline of the company's wealth & gain. […] Sometime after the fall of Raccoon, the reports (such as __Umbrella: Code Red__) began to resurface and the higher authorities that once ignored them began to recognize their mistakes in overlooking what could have been avoided. Most of the blame for the destruction of Raccoon was pushed onto the government - Umbrella was able to keep its name out of the limelight (perhaps payoffs were the reasons behind this) until the year 2003 – an anonymous tip led the corporation further into a spiraling pit of failure. It was revealed later that Albert Wesker, the second trainee under Marcus' watch and the mendacious leader of STARS, as the one who offered the tip. […]_

_The United States had already begun to undergo change – rapidly – once the Umbrella Corporation finally met its fate. By the end of 2003, the government was left with no other choice but to determine a better solution of settling the increasing number of outbreaks within American cities. Another air strike would only lead to global unrest, (after the obliteration of Raccoon city) and would also cause damage amongst the country in general. An idea had supposedly passed through Congress that allowed for a different approach at solving the ongoing problem. Instead of releasing a missile strike upon a city, it would undergo major quarantine from border to border. New York City was first to be tested – although it showed no signs of outbreak, the test was primarily used to see its effectiveness. It proved its success and the sleepless city was set as prime example. _

_In 2005, another outbreak occurred upon U.S soil - this time it clutched its revolting claws around a city on the East Coast. WilPharma, one of Umbrella's many shadows, apparently obtained the research sometime after Umbrella's fall with a desire to release the t-virus within small quarters in hopes to start a chain reaction of outbreaks that would eventually blossom into a worldwide epidemic. The location of choice being an airport. (My guess is they had hoped to pass the strain along through the ventilation of one of the airplanes). A horrific crash ensured the lockdown of the airport, leaving a few survivors inside. The operation was eventually shut down with the help of the government's Special Rescue Team as well as a few survivors of Raccoon City, one who worked for a non-governmental organization (the very same that held a protest against Senator Ron Davis just outside of the airport doors). Supposedly, Ron Davis had dealings with WilPharma, approving the corporation's illegal operations of finding a vaccine for the undefeated t-virus. He literally granted them permission to use human test subjects. Eventually, all that was hidden had been revealed and the corporation fell (as did the confidence in Ron Davis amongst the public) TriCell, another money wielding pharmaceutical giant, bought the remaining stocks and assets of the corporation. This incident alone initiated phase two of the government's secret project._

_Although WilPharma had been wiped out, the government secretly released the quarantine (that actually failed to maintain the viral outbreak within the airport) for unknown purposes, thus the transmission of the T and G-virus crossed state borders and entered cities nearby. The virus literally spread from the East amongst the Midwest, and finally it bled into the southeastern portion of the United States. By the end of 2005, half of the Eastern portion was completely engulfed by the G and T strains. Phase two was then initiated on January 29, 2006 – Operation Radical Split – a massive border that stretches through the center of the continental U.S. beginning at the northern portion of Minnesota, moving around the Western portion past Washington state, down to California and finally wrapping beneath the southwestern states, reaching Texas where it soars back up ending at Minnesota. It met its full completion at the end of March. By mid 2006, the Eastern portion of the country was deemed inhabitable, and people where denied entry or exit due to high levels of viruses amongst many areas – most being major cities and small towns. All those who were left there could only survive by their own means and had no help from the government. A true example of prevailing tragedy. […] Tragedy that will always be looked at as mere failure and nothing else. A city that had been destroyed by its government, only to be forgotten – lost at sea – with all other parts of America's dark history. […]_

"A Wounded Eagle"

Intended for print in "The Chronicle"

Journalist/Writer: J.V. Redfield

Article Complete: April 20, 2009

Status: 1st draft - INCOMPLETE.

* * *

"[…]" – Indicates 'continuation' or information that is either omitted or skipped.

"Umbrella: Code Red" – A highly classified collection of reports written by the sole survivors of the Raccoon City Incident of 1998. It remained in complete secrecy until it's release during 'Operation Radical Split'.

"The Ecliptic Express" – the luxurious inner-city train owned by the Umbrella Corporation. The very first site of the T-virus outbreak, July 23, 1998. Was destroyed after colliding into the Umbrella Training Facility in the Arklay Forest.

"The Key" – Jill Valentine; refers to her specialty as the 'Master of Unlocking'.

"The Gun" – Barry Burton; Valentine's partner, the weapons specialist of STARS.

"The Eye" – Chris Redfield; the Marksman.

"The Commander" – Albert Wesker; leader of STARS Alpha Team. Secretly he worked for Umbrella Corporation as one of their most promising researchers.

"B. Coen" – Billy Coen, ex Second Lieutenant, United States Marine Corps. Convicted (by his colleagues) for the deaths of 23 innocent civilians. He was sentenced to life before the Arklay incident, and was en route to his execution at the time of the initial T-virus outbreak.

"C. Crawford" – Charles 'Chuck' Crawford, former General, United States Marine Corps. Died in the line of duty by his colleagues. Billy was the only one of his comrades to aid him before he was brutally shot to death by his commander.

"Mission Code XX" – 'Bacillus Terminate Operation' the missile strike on the U.S. Midwestern town, Raccoon City – October 1, 1998 6:45 am.

"Operation Radical Split" – the second phase of the clandestine 'quarantine' project. Was initiated January 2006, and finally it was completed March 21, 2006. It literally divides the continental United States into two separate portions – the East and West. The East, known now as 'The Devil's Playpen', is inhabitable and unable to support normal life due to accelerated levels of the T and G virus strains. It is not known whether or not there are people who are not infected who still live within the Eastern portion.

"WillPharma, TriCell" – two pharmaceutical companies that emerged after the collapse of Umbrella.

* * *

Yes. I know it took a while for me to post this chapter. A lot has been going on (as you may all know) considering the new year. (HAPPY NEW YEAR btw) but hopefully i haven't lost any of you. This chapter was very difficult for me, mostly due to the fact that i had to rrreeeaaallly dive deep into RE's storyline and try to put it into my own words - hopefully it doesn't contradict in any way, but if so, let me know. chap 6 will be up shortly.

peace and enjoy.


	6. The War

**6**

"Look at what I found…"

The space that was once occupied by silence quickly became engulfed with the brief cheer of an accomplishment. Suddenly the article became incomprehensible, the eyes felt the urge to look towards the direction of the childlike joy and away from the candor words that painted the dissertation. The child entered the room, emerging from a heavy wall of darkness at the opposite side of the door. She walked steadily with her small arms hanging loosely at her sides. Her right hand – empty, her left tightly holding what looked to be a photograph.

"Hey…you're supposed to be in bed." The woman watched as the child smiled and leaped beside her atop of the mattress.

"I can't sleep – I was looking for yarn and I found this instead".

"Where did you find this?" The woman's voice was bewildered – astonished. It had been a while since she had seen a picture of herself.

"It was in my closet…you remember when we took it?"

"Of course…" the woman answered at almost a whisper. "It's from our camping trip at Sitka Spruce Forest…back home in Seattle…" her eyes glanced over the print once more.

"How could I forget?"

"It was so awesome – can I go back with you, please? I want to go camping again." The child humbly asked, disregarding the answer to the same question she asked earlier in the evening.

"I promise it'll be soon kiddo…now you really should go back to bed. Your folks will be home any minute now – and if they catch you up…"

"What's this?" the child interrupted, finding less interest in the woman's complaint and more in the neat stack of two hundred fifty-two pages that sat just an inch away from the woman's thigh. Her eyes took quick notice at the title 'A Wounded Eagle'.

"Is this is a sad story?" she looked at the words but most of them she did not understand.

"Yeah…it is." The woman answered – bravely, honestly.

"Does the Eagle die in the end?" the child asked sadly.

The woman looked down at the paper and back into the child's stare – she inhaled before opening her mouth to speak.

"Yes…but eventually, it came back to life." She looked away at the powerful grasps of the words. The truth never felt as heavy and overwhelming as it did at this moment.

"But onto better things…hey…close your eyes." The woman smiled before standing to her feet. She walked slowly towards the closet.

Her long hair fell in lush auburn waves that gracefully flowed down her back; it gently swept about at the ease of her movement as she approached the opened door. The child's eyes continued looking at the picture, smiling almost uncontrollably as the faces smiled back at her. She thought back to the day they hiked the trails of the Sitka Spruce Forest that sat at the base of the Olympic Mountains. She remembered it being her first time seeing a mountain up close – and feeling as though it were going to crush her simply for standing beneath it and gazing all the way up to its marvelous peaks. She remembered climbing her first tree – a thirty foot spruce that kept them as well as their food safe from the sudden disperse of migrating bears. She remembered laughing at the woman in the picture because of how she danced around like a firefly when a host of leeches latched onto her after their unexpected plunge into Bear Lake. She remembered how she cried after realizing that they were all over her as well. They were fishing that day – it was her first time. She remembered the bonfire they created later that night and how tall it was and how she believed it would sear the stars right out of the sky. She remembered how warm it was to sit together beneath a fleece blanket even if it were forty degrees out – it didn't matter while your fingers wrapped tighter and tighter at the chilling bite of the wind around a cup of hot cocoa. She remembered eating salmon for the first time and how it became what she looked forward to from then on each visit. They sat around that fire and talked until it could no longer hold its flames. They roasted all of their marshmallows and laughed when they discovered they didn't have any graham crackers to go with them. And how safe she felt in a tent – laughing loudly, beyond the mysterious allies of the quiet forest. She smiled and was overwhelmed with hidden joy for her aunt's current visit.

Claire struggled to remain steady on her tiptoes - her arms stretched above with her hand slowly sweeping the top shelf of the closet. She carefully handled a box and lowered herself back onto her feet.

Lauren covered her eyes with small hands as the woman turned to face her.

Claire held the box against her torso. It was closed – the top flaps were overlapped at a secure fastened. It as a whole looked worn, as if it had been used numerous times for a variety of things until it was finally packed full of recorded memories and left to fade away with time. 'THIS END UP' with an arrow above it scribed each side implying how to properly handle it and that it once sheltered something of prudent delicacy. Her eyes focused straight ahead at the child's graceful posture. She was sitting hunched over, her hands covering her eyes and her feet swinging merrily about the edge of the bed. Claire sat down next to her. The child's hands shot down at the gentle pressure onto the mattress.

"I found a bunch of pictures…" She opened the box, revealing all that was inside.

* * *

The storms were patchy tonight, only occurring in random places and in unsystematic orders. Fog filled the areas that weren't rain struck - through their sheer embodiment the moon became a paled orb. The wind was at a still, as though it were left mesmerized by the mystifying grace of the moonlight. Silence unnervingly coated the land with humble tranquility.

The soft murmur of a guitar grazed the back of her mind as it reminded her of the days when she once felt like nobody and how it was normal to feel that way. A time when life made no sense yet to her somehow it always became clear. She was young then – her life was slow.

"I love this song." Her voice was warm with a settling confidence that she had lacked all day. She recognized this herself.

A soft voice began to sing.

She reached forward and gently turned one of the knobs of the counsel. The volume increased – wrapping sound around the two beings like a warm blanket of limpid grace. It made her feel as though she could do anything – without limits, without boundaries, without failures. She wanted to spread her wings and fly. Her mellow eyes opened and focused on the man that sat next to her.

He veered over at her, smiling at her befuddlement. She could hold as much alcohol as a man and he was probably the only person to ever recognize it. He turned his head forward still smiling knowing this.

The song was 'Blackbird' - a classic she hadn't heard in years - since the early days of her youth when music always filled her soul like it did her household. She thought back to days when she used to get scolded for dancing atop her father's priceless vinyl records and the times when her mother played this song on the piano for her and then on the record player as she slept. The dreams she had while this song played made her believe that she could be anyone, anything that she could possibly want to be.

"Are we almost home yet?" she tirelessly asked behind an obnoxious yawn.

"We're getting there. I'm only doing 20 right now." His voice was sincere and held similar warmth to hers.

"Why are you driving so slow?"

He looked over at her and smiled, noticing the sarcasm that washed over the extent of her face. He was driving slowly because it was the speed at which his drifty eyes could remain focused.

"Too many bourbons…I presume?" She shot at him after his stare. He laughed – looking at her again behind masked confidence. He had enough of them - that is for sure.

"I'm sure the same could be said about yourself."

"Nope. Whiskey's definitely not my thing."

"Oh?"

"Nah. I'm classier than that. Wine, Brandy, Cognac - those are my kinda drinks. I'd down some whiskey though - if I had to. Like if I'm freezing to death or something." She laughed.

"I guess that's your French half eh?" he asked behind a cynical smile. She laughed at the humorous tone of his voice. He reset his eyes back onto the road as the song continued.

Jill veered out at nature through the dense atmosphere beyond her window. She figured the moon would be white however through the ghostlike veil it took shape as a virescent pearl. She stared at it for quite some time as they carried through the tranquil countryside that surrounded the monstrosities of the city - where they had just spent most of their night.

They were at least twenty minutes away from home – he could judge by the passing scenery – the old steel bridge over a dried river, the seemingly endless field of cacti, and the sudden burst of flatlands and wooded areas – they'd be there in no time he thought. The fog wasn't as bad a distraction as he had feared.

The song ended and the disc changed. The rapid pulse of a Hammond M3 organ faded into place where at that point it introduced the thunderous clash of cymbals then soon after the induction of the mouthy guitars and surging drums. Her lips curled into a wry smile.

"Foreplay."

He looked over at her and laughed. She responded in the same manner. This song had history – between the two of them it was merely a single ingredient within the complex adhesive that held their friendship together. She revisited the day she first met Chris Redfield – in the Reserves Officer's Training Corps; she being the only girl of the cadets and he being the only guy to be her friend amongst all of them. She instantly felt a connection with him from that day on - it was not yet attraction but more on the lines of admiration. Through him she regained her trust in other people, and from that she took great value. He became a very good and trusting friend to her – something that never seemed to go away as it would in most cases. A trait she loved dear about him.

He smiled at the memory of her being the 'go to' for locker issues during that time. If ever a lock got jammed – no matter how old and decrepit it was - she'd always be able to get it open with two paperclips, a quarter, and a quick shimmy of the handle. A talent that won her a great amount of attention in both good and bad ways. He remembered that priceless look on her face after she opened his in particular and that very CD fell out onto the floor. 'Boston' became his nickname from then on leaving only the two of them to know it's meaning. She hadn't called him it for a long time. It wasn't until after they'd graduated, went off to school, the armed forces, and returned home thereafter that she had begun to have feelings for him. It was the day she was inducted as a police officer into STARS - she remembered being overly excited to see that he was on the same force as she once again. From then on the two of them made an oath to always look out for each other for as long as they lived.

"This really takes me back…" he spoke up amongst the music - his voice carried well over the blaring speakers. He reached forward and lowered the volume.

"The first time I heard this song…was back in 79' – my dad and I were in the car. We were rushing to get to the hospital. I was only like…six then? God that was so long ago anyway he was driving so fast and the song only made it seem more epic than it actually was." He continued to speak behind laughter as he watched cautiously out of the windshield. "It was the day Claire was born believe it or not." He smiled at the memory.

"The fist time I heard this song – was the night my mother died." Jill spoke, behind a chilling sardonic smile.

"Your mother's not dead…as far as we know." He countered.

"Not literally…" she grabbed her purse and scrounged through it for a half full box of slim cigarettes. He looked at her as she pulled one out without any remorse or regret – he had quit a long time ago and secretly envied her for abandoning her vow to quit.

"Nope. She walked out on us – my dad and I. I was only eleven years old. She and my dad were having 'problems', from my understanding they weren't as serious as they actually were. I'm thinking arguments over such things like leaving the toilet seat up or who's turn it was to walk the dog…"

"I thought you said you never had one before Babe…" he interrupted obnoxiously.

She froze in mid speech with a fierce stare that let him know to relax and let her finish.

"Carry on…" he said behind a smile.

"Thank you. As I was saying…my childish mind only thought their issues were minor but boy oh boy did I learn otherwise. It was my birthday – my father was late coming home, and when he finally did, he brought with him the succulent smell of an extremely pleasurable night. You see, he and my mother were both having affairs – my father knew all along – he had been fighting himself because of it after he had found out. He became a monster, a raging alcoholic, an aggressive smoker, and a neglectful parent. It was because of his hobby that she had turned to another man in the first place. She no longer wanted to be with someone who preferred 'alternative' methods as a means to maintain her expensive habits – yet she still accepted every thing my dad put before her. He used to tell me – 'a person feels a certain guilt after buying the most beautiful jewel – perhaps buyers remorse – especially if they have spent a ridiculous amount, but if they take it – just simply _take_ it, a certain pride washes over them. The pride of finding treasure.'

Anyway…I remember waking up that night, and hearing the two of them argue – this song was playing on the small radio in my room. I sat at the base of our stairs and watched as my mother walked out. She looked at me before closing the door. Her eyes were full of anger that I thought I'd never understand…I don't think I'll ever want to again. After that moment…I didn't know how to feel. It felt as if I were looking at her inside of a coffin. She died to me that night."

Chris said nothing, and the smile that had once adorned his face turned into a simple expression of concern. He looked over at her and noticed that she still harbored joy – within her voice as well as her face.

"Wow…that's really…"

"Fucked up? Shyeah – how do you think I feel?" she said in the exact way she believed he would have. "and the worst part is…I don't even know if she _is_ alive." She placed the cigarette between her lips then going for the lighter, she continued to speak. "The truth is however…I don't think I would want her to be…" she stared blankly out of the windshield while lighting the end. "Considering everything that has happened...and how things are right now." She took the first drag, exhaled, and lowered her window.

The intensity smoldered his nostrils and made him nod in discomfort. His tongue salivated from the enticing scent of tobacco. He hadn't had a craving for two years and although he spent most of his time around corporate heavy smokers tonight was much harder for him for some odd reason. He lowered his window as well, avoiding the approach of an unwelcomed migraine headache.

"Oh, sorry about this…I kinda started back a couple of months ago." She spoke with the cancer stick between her fingers – her eyes staring at it as the smoke slowly ascended the upturned end. She shot her eyes over at him afterwards at the desire to see the damage from her words, if any. She picked the habit back up after the first month of Chris' absence – just as she neared the eighth year of being smoke free. Silently, she blamed him for becoming victim to the habit once again.

"It's ok…it's a hard thing to avoid sometimes." He spoke modestly, trying to portray an example as well as avoiding the desire to ask her for one.

"I only smoke when I've obviously had too much to drink…case in point." She said before taking the second puff.

He enjoyed her sense of humor – more so when she was intoxicated. She'd swear in almost every sentence and would never get offended at drunken outlandish and inappropriate jokes - no matter how degrading they were. This was the Jill he'd considered his 'old' buddy – the Jill that wasn't afraid to speak her mind especially if it were the truth. Regardless if she knew it where or not – she had the power to persuade you that it was. She was a sailor's daughter – drank, spoke, and held honor like one - and he found it somewhat attractive for it was what he found the most trusting about her. She was as real as they come, he thought.

The great mass of storm cloud hovered over them silently as they carefully pulled into the driveway.

"Figures. I knew it would eventually catch up with us…" Jill's slurred speech was almost identical to the lazy posture of her body. She flung herself out of the car with the similar motion of a giant rubber band after launch. She staggered towards the porch under the protection of Chris' jacket – she held it tightly over her head as the drops of rain pounded against it. The four inches of thin heels she wore sank effortlessly into the wet dirt yet it didn't hinder her graceful movement through it. She managed to stay amongst her own invisible path that led up the stairs without tripping over drunken feet and subsequently falling onto her face.

Chris laughed – the rain poured down onto him harder, it seemed, as he walked closer to the porch. She stood waiting at the door for him to open it. He stared up to her at the darkness that draped around her body and left only a smooth streak of moonlight to accentuate the gentle curve of her backside and legs.

"Let me guess…you forgot your keys?" he asked cleverly as if he were reading her mind and revealed the secret she had been hiding from the world.

She didn't leave them; she just didn't feel like searching for them. She smiled deviously behind a giddy chuckle – the kind that often went hand in hand with a wink, a blown kiss, or a gentle twirl of hair around the index finger.

She was flirting and it excited him.

He approached her and gently pressed himself against her – backing her body against the door. Her eyes stared into his in a challenging manner – almost taunt-like. He moved his face closer, brushing his lips against hers. She turned her head away in quick response – laughing while biting her bottom lip lasciviously. He pressed against her more firmly in aggravation at her sneering behavior and dominated the space between the two of their drenched bodies. She grabbed his head and pushed it forcibly into hers. His passion was pervious to her jeer – he felt this strongly.

It had been a long time since she tasted the inside of his mouth leaving her with no other option but to kiss him as though it were her last chance. He pulled his lips away in need of air. They stared at each other deeply– hungrily. The need was made obvious at this point. He slid the key into the lock, turned it, and the door opened slowly. He caught her body as she backed into the kitchen. Babe walked in at the sound of scurried footsteps. The two forms where wrapped into such a tight embrace that it made it difficult for them to move without stumbling over each other's clumsiness. Unlike his normal bout of rushing them in hopes of a greeting, he turned and walked into the living room and up the stairs.

Jill stood still after setting the drenched article onto the back of one of the chairs that surrounded the center table.

"Where's Babe…he's usually waiting by the door." Chris wondered before the sound of running water from the sink faucet filled the room. He went for a cup above before noticing that two were already cleaned and sitting by the sink – beneath the windowsill – without realizing the ring that still sat uninterrupted.

"He left – he's probably in Lauren's room." Jill looked to her feet and noticed that she was still wearing the mud-covered heels – her eyes then followed the small path of tracks that led from the door. She sighed while reaching down to untie the straps around her ankles. Her feet were sore, and covered in mud at the sole, arch, and toes. She moved over to the sink next to Chris, who stood there with the faucet still running. She grabbed a towel, wet it, and attempted to bend over.

"Here let me help you with that." He grabbed her just before she toppled over onto the floor. She laughed while lifting herself unto the countertop with the steady strong help of his shoulder. Jill watched as her husband humbly began to clean her feet. He began slowly, wiping around the instep, the arch, and then the toes of her left foot. He responded in the same manner to the right. 'This is like something straight out of the bible.' He gazed up behind the thought with deep eyes as though he were waiting for a sign of approval – he felt tonight she deserved the royal treatment of a queen. She responded with an inviting smile and a gentle stroke upon his face with her hand. He ran a hand along the smooth skin of her leg - sculpting the firm muscle beneath the soft skin of her calf. He gently massaged it as he moved up her thigh; the edge of the dress slid up with his hand as he moved over the curves hidden beneath it.

"Chris..." she spoke in almost a whisper and watched as he stood back to his feet with his hand still in the same place. A moment of thick silence held them in place deep within each others frightening gaze – both staring as to search one another for an answer to the perhaps indefinite questions they'd been silently asking. He found her eyes intense - with the alluring power and beauty as a vast sea of sapphires. They were fascinating, for within them he could always see confidence - a certain gleam inside of them that assured her comrades, no matter who they were, she could be trusted without a doubt. He moved his head closer to hers, paused a moment to feel the shallow pulses of her breath unto his lips, and softly touched them with his. The petal-like softness was exhilarating; before he could realize, he had her lips partied with his hunger – sweeping the sweet depths of her mouth with his tongue in the utmost of glutton fashion.

She placed a hand at the back of his neck and softly began twisting her fingers through the wet strings of his hair. She grabbed a handful in a desperate request for oxygen – as she believed he needed it as well. He spread her legs further apart with the solidity of his body before kissing her once more. He reached further up her hips and gave the delicate lace fabric a soft tug.

"Wait…Lauren." She whispered – her finger pointed out of the kitchen and at the door that sat directly next to it. From their perch beside the sink they could notice the lights inside of the room where turned off giving away the silent warning of a sleeping soul. "Let's take this upstairs." Chris smiled, as he thought just what would've crossed her lips. He helped her off of the counter top that only held a height of four and a half feet up from the floor. She laughed while snaking her arm around his back like a wounded soldier. Silently they walked through the quiet living room and up the stairs.

Laughter filled every corner of the second level of the house – a younger one and then gentle slithers of an older one. They were comical, as though they were the product of great enjoyment. Their bodies created an oblique form against the blackened darkness of the hallway. The stealthy footsteps made the image seem almost ghostlike. They paused and watched as Claire and Lauren lay across the bed looking through a box that, to Chris, hadn't had any existence before seen at this moment. Jill smiled, lowering her arm from the support of his back.

Lauren gazed into the darkness at an approaching presence. "Mommy?" she spoke. Claire looked up into the darkness and noticed the shapes growing less visual as they neared the entrance into the bedroom. "Just what are you still doing up?" the voice was warm and sarcastic, and proved that she was not at all angry to see the child disobeying a curfew but more so happy to see her up and in good spirits. The light wrapped itself around Jill's entire frame as she fully walked into the room. The dress appeared a deep hue of royal blue within the dim light of two oil lamps.

"Where in hell did you find those?" Chris asked as he abruptly entered behind her. He shot his eyes at both of the porcelain antique masterpieces. "I thought you got rid of those?" he looked at Jill.

"I found them downstairs – in that closet by the door to the basement." She looked up at them, noticing the soaked hair and attire. She could sense the dreariness of alcohol. "Got caught in the storm huh?" She continued.

"Yeah. I thought we'd beat it…but I guess not." He stretched his arms behind a yawn before walking over to the nearest window. Jill sat beside the two on the bed, glaring down at scattered photographs she hadn't seen in a long time. She lifted one from the elaborate quilt – smiling at the memory of the day it was taken. It was of Lauren at a park, back when she was two years old – she took the picture using a Holga pinhole camera.

"Mommy…Claire says I'm part Canadian. Is that true?" the young girl asked curiously.

Jill looked at Claire and then to Lauren.

"Well…yeah. In a way you are. I never thought of that."

"She's not Canadian…how can she be Jill? You and I - I know for a fact - are pure bred American." Chris turned to face them.

"She was born in British Colombia – remember? So I mean technically, she is a citizen of Canada. We could legally claim her as that…maybe we should do that." Jill spoke while looking at Lauren; an artful smile painted confidently on her face.

"Do what?" the young girl asked frightened at the new disclosure.

"Have you listed as a Canadian citizen kiddo."

"Yeah…then we can send you back to Canada Scarlet."

"But…that's not fair." She stood to her feet looking angrily at Jill and Claire.

"Life's not fair honey." Jill commented.

"Why do I have to be Canadian – and you don't?" she asked looking at the three adults as an equal.

"We're just kidding kiddo. We can't send you away…or can we?" Claire smiled while looking at both Chris and Jill afterwards.

"No you can't send me away! I LIVE HERE!" the child's body seemed to leap off of the bed in an uncontrollable force.

"That's right…you tell em' Lauren." Chris walked over to her, lifting the child into his arms. The both of them faced the sitting women. "You don't have to go anywhere." He kissed her on the cheek.

"You better get to bed honey…you have school tomorrow." Jill spoke as she approached the child in her father's arms. She planted a small kiss on the delicate cheek. "She does have to go _there_."

"C'mon I'll tuck you in." he said while carrying her out of the room and down the stairs. He turned to look at Jill and smiled at her cunningly – as if he were implying that he would soon return and as ready as ever.

"Goodnight Lauren." Claire shouted.

"Goodnight Claire." A tiny shout behind a joyful giggle responded.

"Thanks so much Claire."

"For what?"

"For watching Lauren…I hope she wasn't a problem."

"Oh no…she's amazing. Honestly the best child I've ever looked after. It's the least I can do, after all that you and Chris have done…and continue to do – for me..." Claire lifted a picture from the box and glanced at it momentarily. She then gave it to Jill. "Really. It's the least I can do…Look at this one."

The photo was taken the eighth month of Jill's pregnancy. Chris was the person behind the camera; he snapped the shot at Jill's daily struggle of getting out of bed.

"How could I forget this…it took me almost ten minutes just to get out of bed back then." She laughed while absorbing the good memories.

"It seems like just yesterday I had her…it's still so strange." She replaced it back into the box and removed another.

"Yeah I know what you mean. It's hard to believe that was nine years ago. Time has really gone hasn't it?" Jill nodded at the question before standing – she slowly swept her feet against the carpeted floor until she stopped in front of the window. Nine years. So much has happened in that span of time, she thought.

Claire glared down and noticed the bottom corner of the paper beneath the box. She pushed it further underneath and away from its writer's sight. She felt as though it was something Jill did not want anyone to see.

"You know what's funny.... the fact that there are so many people out there that don't know the full truth."

"What do you mean?" Claire wondered.

Jill remained silent, staring out into the misty field beneath the exuberant gaze of stars. A husky breath made her turn about and look at Claire behind tired eyes. She knew Claire understood clearly what she had meant.

"Keep reading them…you'll see what I mean." She looked at the box, already knowing what was hiding beneath it. "If you haven't figured it out already." She said while walking away from the window. Claire remained sitting there, watching as Jill approached the door to the closet.

"I forgot I kept them in here." She smiled looking down at a box full of every article that she had written – even ones she never finished. "Well at least they're getting put to good use now." Her eyes returned to Claire in almost a look of relief. She felt although most of the articles had been printed and read by hundreds of people, the fact that Claire's eyes ran the course of them made it more worthwhile simply because she would be one of the few that could actually empathize with and understand the power behind the words.

"See you in the morning Claire." She spoke softly.

"Jill…I always wanted to know - what exactly made you _want_ to become a writer?"

"It's in there." She smiled behind eyes that pointed confidently at the box inside of the closet. "Goodnight." She walked out of the room.

Claire sat still after Jill's exit – the thoughts that swept through her mind brought about the feeling of curiosity that often filled her with the ambition to investigate something more in depth. She stood from the bed, her eyes focused straight ahead on the box within the closet.

The top sheet read "A New World of Medicine" to the left of it, high in the top corner was promptly stamped "Article – III" in bright red ink. She kneeled down and removed it before noticing a small notebook beneath it. The front cover was a bare sheet of faded blue and looked as though it had been through great hardship. She sat the article down and lifted the book out of the box.

She flicked aside the cover and began reading the inscription etched onto the inner sleeve.

"For whoever is daring enough to read this…you probably have either lived it or a part of you has died because of it…" her eyes looked away grimly.

It was Jill's handwriting - she could recognize. The ink had been worn to almost transparency indicating how long ago it had been written and that it most likely was the very first thing she wrote inside. Claire noticed the small stack of loose sheets that had been folded to easily fit inside of the book. She unfolded them and recognized the writing. They were letters – written in a strikingly familiar handwriting – her own as she soon realized. A photograph adhered to the very first page. The entire STARS force at a strategic pose in front of a chopper with the prestigious look of confidence painting each of the member's faces.

_The gang – 1997 – notice how 'righteous' we look._

Claire read the inscription, and figured Jill was sarcastically implying how prepared they were for their jobs during that time. How confident they were to serve as policemen and women - the saviors of mankind - and how prepared they were for anything thrown at them even without knowledge concerning the thrower or what was being thrown. She continued reading the inscription that detailed the names of each. Her eyes stopped - the front row at the kneeling officers: _K. Dooley,_ _E. Marini, C. Redfiled, J. Valentine, J. Frost. _The image of Chris and Jill at such a young age held her thoughts at one moment in particular – back when she felt the same 'righteousness'. She stared at the two of them, and it reminded her of the moment when that confidence faded away. That moment when suddenly the training you receive seems rather pointless and the orders of your job are weighed against the welfare of your life on that ever so dreadful scale of life and death.

It must have been their first year, she thought while staring at the date. She turned the page and instantly began reading.

_After Chris and I defeated TALOS and crushed Umbrella's final stronghold, we decided to keep running. We continued our fight to bring justice towards the corporation on behalf of all those dead, infected, and even those who are still breathing. We were informed that although Umbrella no longer existed, outbreaks were still happening. _

_We stayed in Europe - moving from Russia west to Belarus, through much of Poland, to Czech Republic, until we finally reached Austria. Our first intentions were to rest up here for a while but we instantly noticed that death had already paid a visit – the country had fallen victim to what looked to be a vicious war - judging by the disturbing aftermath. The prior countries had only showed small signs of infection. I honestly don't think this scenario had anything to do with an outbreak however; it seemed more civil – as though the country were fighting within itself. There was absolutely nothing left – no people, no businesses, no life – a country occupied entirely by ghost towns. Thankfully, we managed to scrounge up as much ammunition and scraps of food we could find. We then left and continued moving west. _

_May 4, 2003 _

_Brandenburg – Germany. _

_We finally landed here after a long trek through Austria. We didn't find a single soul until we were almost forty miles east of Berlin. A farmer – who was nice enough to let us crash in the extra room he had in his house. Lucky for us, he was a veteran of the Cold War and knew how to speak English quite well. He explained to us pretty much everything that went down in Austria. Supposedly, something infested the water – it drove everyone insane; caused civil unrest, which later ripped apart every part of the country. Leaving only those living who were smart enough to stay as far away as possible – like our friend here. He said that no one was allowed to enter or leave and that soldiers threatened him and his family if they had mentioned anything about the incident or if they were hiding Austrian escapees. It was honestly the most horrendous thing I had ever heard. _

_I found this diary here – The Farmer's daughter slid it into my pack. He was also nice enough to let us keep his Springfield M1903 – after I convinced him that Chris could get it working again. He said an American soldier gave it to him during an invasion in Italy during his service. He said that it was because of the soldier that he was able to come back home to his wife and children and that although it never worked again, he kept it for that reason._

_We left about a day later. We had to keep moving. _

_---_

_July 21, 2003_

_Berlin – Germany. _

"…_die Schneengel tanzen…die Schneengel tanzen…Tanzen ohne Spitzen…Tanzen ohne Unterseiten…Tanzen so nacktes, wie der Taggott sie holte…"_

_A rather catchy and very incongruous lullaby I used to hear as a child from the drunken slurs of my father on the anniversary of his great-great grandfather's first settlement onto American soil from mother Germany. My father was a hefty mixture of German and French; he had a knack for brandy, and with a snifter in his left hand, a cigar in his right, he'd began singing this song – loud as day – just the way he claims my grandfather did to him. I'd always felt as though he wished I were a boy while he sang it, simply so that he wouldn't feel as guilty while he sung it. He'd move his hands in and outward at each word as to make it look like he was conducting an invisible orchestra. It was ok until I actually began singing it, and when the very last word left my lips, quickly followed a slap that shoved them right back in. I'd close my eyes at the stinging sensation on both my lips, then when I opened them, I'd see my mother standing there putting her wedding ring back on her finger. That night I learned just what it meant – I was 8 years old. _

"_Snow Angels dancing…Snow Angels dancing…Dancing without tops…Dancing without bottoms…Dancing naked as the day God brought them." _

_It sounds harmless – like a modest carol at Christmas that secretly harbors such hideous and womanizing meaning, _

_ Snow Angel was a strip club somewhere in Germany (back in the days of my grandfather), that was full of women who most likely had a severe addiction to cocaine - thus the reason behind the name. At least that's what my mother told me. I'm not sure how true that is. Dad once told me that he had been there before - but enough rambling... _

_It seemed as though nothing corrupted the state. From the time we arrived back in May, to even now well through the summer – there was absolutely no sign of corruption in any way. No outbreaks, no deaths - life flourished as it always did here. News moved around about bizarre happenings around the outskirts of the state. (familiar, I know) However they were supposedly 'rumors' set along by pranksters who simply wanted attention. We lived here during what we call a 'silent period', there weren't any signs of a nearing outbreak and we hadn't heard any news about Umbrella's comeback. Here is where we officially began hiatus – it was something that I honestly used to think was meant for cowards; people who were afraid of dying or getting caught. But after surviving all that I had – it became far more clear to me. Chris and I weren't hiding as a result of fear but merely to see if normal life still existed. We wanted to see if we could find someplace to call home, seeing as that Raccoon no longer existed. So we lived, learned German, ate German food, had an early Oktoberfest, you name it. In all honesty – it was still far from normal life for us. We felt like fugitives – running away from an invisible threat that could appear at any unsuspected time. That wasn't enough to make us leave however we decided to stay and see just how long normality could last within the state. _

_---_

_August 15, 2003_

_Baden-Wurttemberg - Germany._

_I'm pregnant. _

_Yes. The unbelievable has happened. Who would've thought it? Me. Pregnant. Didn't realize until the morning two days after our arrival in Baden-Wurttemberg. I left Berlin feeling kinda weird, mostly because well, after years and years of wondering what it would be like to 'be' with him, it finally happened. It was a night with enough ale and emotions to make even Hitler blush. Little did I know that the 'weird' feeling was just my stomach warning me to get to the nearest bathroom – and fast. I've been having morning sickness for the past two weeks, and I should say that I have never felt more miserable. _

_I know you're wondering (amongst other obvious things) why we left Berlin – it's simple; as mentioned before, we sat and waited and waited and waited to see how long normality could hold down the state. Finally, at the end of July, the virus found it's way in. Reports first started at a nearby bakery. A man found a severed finger inside a loaf of pumpernickel bread. All hell broke loose after that. The man became infected from eating a piece of the bread - right before finding the treasure inside. In turn he eventually infected his family and they infected their neighbors and so on and so forth. We managed to escape – first stopping in the neighboring state of Saxony-Anhalt (where, apparently, the outbreak had made it there as well), to Thuringia (a complete ghost town, like most of Austria), barely making it through Hesse (where we met up with some "hungry" civilians), until we headed south from there and finally made it here. Of course we aren't staying for long, seeing as how fast the virus is moving. It took us almost 3 weeks to get through the viral stricken land. This is inevitable…will we spend the rest of our days running from this? _

_Oh yeah…he doesn't know yet. _

_---_

_September 23, 2003_

_Florence – Italy. _

_We ended up here after escaping the hellish countryside of Germany. The Italian part of me wanted to stay longer than the French part would allow.  
_

_Now I'm leaving. I don't know if I can take this.  
_

_I don't know if I can handle it. I don't know if I'm ready for a child.  
_

_I don't really know where I am going. But I can't stay here. _

_p.s. he still doesn't know. _

_---_

_December 10, 2003 _

_Paris, France_

_I managed to gather some information on everyone's whereabouts; contacted a bunch of people (most without any success) – and eventually I left for France. I met up with Claire after a long bout of mailed letters across vast distances. (I moved away from Europe and spent most of my time in Africa after I left Florence) She shared a place with Chris in Paris and they had been working together to form a secret alliance that would keep track of Umbrella's dealings. _

_It had become quite obvious, although the corporation was done; its legacy was far from over. Claire moved here just a few months prior after she found out that her brother had been fighting in Europe. _

_I was a hefty 5 months, although the both of them noticed neither of them mentioned anything about it. Especially Chris, he just kinda pretended like he didn't notice it – I could recognize his curiosity however. I didn't tell him right away – I didn't think it would be right to show up with news like that after ditching out and being 'missing in action' for 3 months. _

_Of course, I don't think he believed me at first – but I had to remind him. It was back in September when I left (I was already 2 ½ months then) however, it was the night in Berlin – back in July – exactly 5 months ago – that made this current predicament possible. He didn't respond at first; he was literally left blank. Then suddenly, (after some time) he remembered behind an (surprisingly) intrigued smile. He looked at me and hugged me tighter than he ever did. I couldn't help but to get a little teary-eyed. _

_We decided to stay together after this. A few weeks later, Claire left for America to join TerraSave, an organization committed to search and rescue during chemical and biological attacks. (I didn't tell her however) Chris and I remained here until we noticed the cycle begin to repeat itself. We had heard rumors about a couple that had gotten attacked inside of The Louvre. He and I visited one night, and realized that the reports were true. Many had already become infected in and around the location of the massive museum. Within 2 days the city had gone into a major panic. After experiencing the worst outbreak thus far, we decided to return to North America. _

_---_

_January 3, 2004 _

_Quebec – Canada._

_We settled in Quebec after a long trek across the Atlantic. By this time, many countries around the world were erased - murdered by the vicious hands of Umbrella Corporation. For a second I was convinced that it would never stop – I finally answered the question that I had asked myself back in Germany. I believed that wherever we fled, the virus was sure to come. I swear it felt worse than death sometimes. We were running from a very dangerous - invisible force. _

_We landed in Canada on New Years Eve. At exactly 11:58 pm, Chris and I stepped off of the plane. It may have been a sudden stroke of luck because the rest of the night brought about less tension and more relaxation. Canada didn't seem to harbor any signs of outbreaks. In fact we hadn't heard any news pertaining to that. _

_We celebrated the New Year in a condo that Chris claimed belonged to Barry after Raccoon was destroyed. (Where he is now? I haven't a clue). It was honestly a good thing to be this close to home, I felt. But on the other hand, it brought back horrific memories. _

_Chris thinks it's a boy – It doesn't matter to me. _

_But I know it's a girl. _

_---_

_March 17, 2004_

_British Columbia – Canada._

_I'll be nine months in two weeks and I'm stuck in bed all of the time. We decided that running was no longer an option (at least in my case). We lived in Quebec for two and half months and suddenly had the urge to move. I later learned that it was because Chris wanted to be close to his sister – who owned a place in Seattle. Claire settled there while working with TerraSave._

_It literally feels like rocks are wrapped tightly around my ankles. I no longer can see my feet standing and writing has become the only way to pass time – mostly memories about everything that we had endured these past six brutal years. I received a letter from Claire, attached along with it numerous documents concerning America's current change. (Most of which I plan to use in future publications) Some documents where classified at levels I don't think even the president had authorization to look at. How she got them, I'll never know. _

_---_

_April 20, 2004_

_British Columbia – Canada. _

_She's here. Eight pounds, six ounces. Born at 6:30 am. _

_They told me that I was in labor for twenty hours. __Twenty hours__! _

"_you put in a hard day's work." - Chris to me, as I lay (delusional) upon the hospital bed. _

_Truth is I didn't even know it. I paid no attention to it. Before I could realize anything, I had fallen into an endless rapture of breathing and contractions. I had no medication, and at one point I could have sworn Elvis was standing over one of the doctors – looking down at me behind those big golden framed sunglasses. It felt like a watermelon was trying to burst its way out of my stomach – every two minutes it felt like this – then eventually it began feeling this way every 5 seconds. Believe me…that is __**truly**_ _pain. _

_Pain that makes you see heaven when you're obviously in hell. But then at the end of the burning tunnel, after all the flesh has been seared off, after the fire dies down around me, after Elvis stops singing, and smiling at me behind those sunglasses – comes the sound of life. The sound that explains God. The sound that transforms the pain and exhaustion into pure love and appreciation. The sound of my screaming baby girl. I cried for the first time - in a long time. Chris did too – he denies it, but he definitely cried. _

_At this moment, I believe it is safe to say, Chris and I decided to start our lives anew. We decided to stop fighting and running, and at that moment he made a vow never to leave me. He promised a good life for the three of us. And I knew he was sincere. I've fallen in love for the first time. In all of my years of living. We have a new purpose now; we have a reason to stay alive and her name is Lauren. _

_---_

_December 24, 2005_

_British Columbia – Canada. _

_Claire surprised us with a visit and we surprised her with a niece. The look on her face was priceless. She looked distraught – seriously distraught. Not at discovering she was now an aunt but at what she left behind back in the States. She was overjoyed about the baby (I think mostly because Lauren looked a lot like her – at least that's what Chris says) yet I could tell something was bothering her. She decided to move in with us for a couple of months until she felt confident about returning to the States. She finally confessed to me about an ordeal in Harvardville that she had barely managed to escape and how this incident alone set forth the secret project that she had been secretly investigating before. The government quarantined the entire city, without nuking it. Setting it aside from the destruction of Raccoon. She mentioned that, it was up to our government to either keep or break a secret treaty that has tucked away the possibility of a Third World War. America had promised the United Nations that it would not release another missile strike onto its own soil. So the city stands, infected, but it still remains and the most horrific thing about it is the fact that most of the nation hasn't a clue about this. I was furious. Not only is the city infected, but many areas surrounding it. She told me that shortly after she and a few others settled the incident at the Harvardville Airport, the government quietly released the quarantine – allowing the virus to surpass state borders. She informed me that it was not fully Umbrella's fault, but a new pharmaceutical company, WilPharma – who apparently got their hands on Marcus' and Birkin's notes regarding the t-virus. The virus was put on the black market and used in a twisted game to gain wealth. They orchestrated the entire incident - infecting an entire airplane that was set to land at Harvardville (in hopes of it being the pinnacle for releasing the virus amongst the world) and then initiating major vaccinations (the nature of their existence was to create a vaccination for the otherwise indestructible virus). Claire revealed to me that it was WilPharma's intention to frame TerraSave in hopes to destroy the organization, (as they fought against the corporation for using human experiments) for preventing treatment for the virus to the public. Eventually, the operation was settled after the death of deranged and former employee, Curtis Miller - WilPharma was destroyed. (He managed to acquire the G-virus within WilPharma's main headquarters thus becoming proof of the corporation's true dealings) They lost all assets and wealth, the corporation's key figure was thrown in prison, Ron Davis – a major contributor to WilPharma's success was presumed dead, and TriCell bought the corporation. TriCell now holds the crown that once belonged to the American Umbrella Corporation in Europe, where it is based. However, some months later TriCell supposedly loaned money to a small American based corporation that had barely made enough money to clear out the previous year (mostly due to the lack of trust from the American citizens in pharmaceuticals after the downfall of Umbrella). She confirmed that TriCell loaned 5 billion dollars to a molecular scientist named Bryce Morris, who later renamed the corporation 'Azareus Laboratories'. _

"_Azareus is pretty much the new Umbrella of America. It holds top chair in the markets – much to the extent, as did Umbrella. They seem just as innocent as did WilPharma the only difference is, unlike either of the previous two; this is a legit pharmaceutical company. One that utilizes the natural facets of nature as way of curing modern diseases and improving the overall health of the planet - instead of using chemical based treatment." _

_Claire mentioned that TerraSave found no evidence of the Corporation's use of humans as experiments - of any type. (And they definitely investigated that more than twice she assured). Therefore, they had absolutely no reason (or proof) that could convict the Corporation of treason of any kind. Azareus Laboratories became a success right after the fall of WilPharma – they created a vaccination that cured both the T and G virus strains by use of a natural chemical compound within an exotic plant found only in the tropical regions of the world. Not only that, but they offered the vaccination at no cost. Although this was the pinnacle of the Corporation's success, it hit stardom at their timely discovery of the cure for cancer. Suddenly, the dark shadows of Umbrella's wretched past had suddenly begun to vanish. People began trusting pharmaceuticals once again; complying with doctors and using medication without fear of dying or turning into something worse. _

_Claire strongly suggested that we remain here in Canada for as long as we could bare it. Our names were clear within the United States; however, it wouldn't stop the desperate headhunters who still secretly worshiped Umbrella's terror. She was accepted to the University in Seattle, however she was not ready to move back home. Whatever happened in Harvardville changed her. It devastated her, to the point of inescapable anger. She had lost something or perhaps someone while trying to survive that ordeal – I could tell. In her eyes I saw that she had spent many nights in dismay and that she had just recently decided to save herself from a depressive lifestyle and to replace it with aggressive emotion._

_Lauren said 'mommy' for the first time today – it wasn't her first word but it was the first time I had heard it. She first said it when Claire held her a few days ago. She assured me that Lauren didn't say it directly to her and that it was just one of those random babbles. She said it _to_ me a day later. Hearing it is like hearing the sunrise in the morning. It is one of those things that is so unbelievable you can't help but to question if it's really happening. I about planted 40 kisses on her face._

_Claire could even admit - it's odd that I am a mother. _

_Oh yeah I almost forgot - Merry Christmas. _

_---_

_February 19, 2006_

_British Colombia – Canada_

_Claire regained enough confidence to return to the States. She was set to start the spring semester at the University in Seattle, and ready to pursue a Masters in international/national affairs with an emphasis in civilian welfare. She is hoping to become an ambassador. And quite frankly I think that is the perfect position for her especially with her experience in Rescue. She expressed interest in working in the many viral and poverty stricken countries all over the world that had fallen under Umbrella's poisonous kiss. _

_I decided now to use my pen (instead of my Samurai's Edge) as way to fight this endless war on the world's health. Journalism seems to be a new avenue for me – I don't know why exactly. It's just a sudden urge - I have fought my entire life, now I feel it's time that I spoke. It's time for the world to know about the horrific history of Umbrella Corporation that began almost 8 years ago and how it's legacy continues to rip the world to shreds. _

_---_

_June 8, 2006_

_Seattle – Washington_

_Chris and I finally introduced Lauren to the homeland - America. Damn, it's been almost 9 years since I've been home. It's crazy to think it's been that long. _

_I have never been to Seattle; Chris commented that he had on numerous occasions. His mother was part Canadian and was raised here for most of her life after their family crossed the border. He and Claire spent a lot of time growing up here as kids. That helped a lot in terms of getting adjusted. We decided to surprise Claire (whom we obviously did not inform of our arrival back into the States) stopped by her house and realized that she wasn't there. Thankfully – her door was unlocked. We crashed there for the night – without her knowing – and left the following day. _

"_C'mon it's Claire – she won't mind. She doesn't have a choice…really." –Chris._

_---_

_March 11, 2007_

_Romesville – Arizona_

_We moved around, mostly on the coast. It was nice to drive along the Pacific – another part of this country that I hadn't seen. By the time we had gotten to the southern portion we had received contact from Claire. Chris was terribly worried about her after not hearing from her for almost a year since we'd landed back in America. They usually kept in contact with each other on pretty much a weekly basis – that is after she lived with him in Europe. Chris headed back to Seattle in October, while I stayed with Lauren back home in (at that time) San Francisco. He kept me informed on his well being as well as Claire's. He said that she had been away in Mexico on a scout with TerraSave. It took them 3 1/2 months to backpack through the country – what they were in search for was none other than a possibility of a threat of another outbreak. (After almost 2 years of searching, they finally found a lead that they believed would have plummeted Azareus into a frightful end. Satellite images of a massive desolate facility in the city of Oaxaca that they assumed was owned by the corporation was sent to them.) Months before the trip, a lone government agent disguised as personnel infiltrated the facility and gathered TONS of evidence concerning human experiments. The only problem – they lost contact with him - of course. He didn't mention much else concerning her travels and whether or not it was even a success. I didn't bother to ask anything else. I kinda figured what would be said next anyway and besides, those Redfields can get emotional if you ask too many questions. More so temperamental than emotional. _

_He said that Claire was fine however; she didn't seem to remember a lot about the trip he claims. _

_--_

_Chris finally made it back at the end of November. We decided to keep moving – east this time. After all the traveling we had done, it finally began to feel like a world tour and it was time that we stopped moving. It felt good because this time, we weren't running from anything – we were just…exploring. Something that I'd thought I'd never have the chance to do ever again. _

_We landed in Romesville – a city hidden amongst mountains – like Raccoon. _

_Chris and I 'officially' got married here – that is after he convinced me. _

_**Marriage?**__ I thought at first. __**To Chris Redfield?**__ I thought second. _

_I thought about it. And later realized that it wasn't for the obvious of corny reasons (like love) but for the sake of us staying together – supporting each other. What he and I have…is something deeper – more complicated and meaningful – less trivial than love. Not to mention the fact that he bought us both rings and everything… _

_Primarily, it was the fact that it was best for Lauren to have both of her parents. Together. Happy. At Peace. God knows I would hate for her to have to grow up like I did - in a house made of glass. _

_Speaking of which Lauren turns 3 next month. _

_I've got an interview next week with "The Chronicle" – the major newspaper here. Turns out the CEO knew my father – quite well actually. He knew nothing of my history – which was great – but he knew a hell of a lot about good ole' Dick Valentine. Even more than I – I'm ironically embarrassed to admit. _

_Chris managed to get a job doing exactly what he hated most…stock. I'm still confused at how he managed to get the job and probably will be forever. We've completely converted our lives – our guns are now resting just as we are. Together…Chris and I will raise our child, unafraid to fight if we have to – however we've left that world behind because it's best. For the most part it is just us three. And honestly…that's how I like it. I have never felt more alive – even after surviving all that I had – I now know what living truly feels like. _

Claire sat the book down, she remain staring - blankly at the pages. She felt the sweltering surge of nostalgia grip the panes of her body. _How could someone else' diary have this much of an affect on me?_ She thought. Briefly, it made her remember all that she had been involved in – names of places, corporations, outbreaks, etc that she hadn't heard about since she left them remaining in the darkened fields of her subconscious. Now that she has stepped away from a life of running, just as did her brother and sister in-law, it had become quite easy to forget those things.

She felt the same feeling one feels after watching a disturbing movie – one that makes you ponder in disgrace yet you want to see it again.

She stood up from the mattress and walked over to the closet to return the journal to its resting place. Upon setting it down, she noticed an incomplete article.

"In The Eyes Of A Guerilla Mercenary"

* * *

Jill stood silently in the very center of the bedroom. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion. For a single moment, silence surrounded her entire being - creating an ambiance of serenity and absolute stillness. She exhaled. Letting out all that had been trapped inside of her soul. Her eyes found delicate comfort in her reflection in a full-length mirror. She could admit that it was the first time she had noticed it stood there by the closet door- she never paid it any attention before. Her reflection was the same as it was earlier in the day – distorted – one that she did not recognize. She felt angry while staring at it, hating its glare – its posture – its unexplained sadness. She suddenly began to feel sorry for it.

_Maybe he had something important to tend to overseas – something with his job. Yeah. _But suddenly she thought to herself how ridiculous it sounded, why would a stockbroker have to leave so suddenly, and without notifying his or her own family about it? And what exactly would _he_ have to do overseas? _It's possible._ She'd told herself. She inhaled deeply while walking closer to the bed. For a brief second her eyes lingered upon the nearest wall. The beige paint held an odd bareness that still offered some form of elegance. Eventually, her eyes stopped at the heartfelt photograph of Chris with Lauren in his arms, back when they lived in Canada. It sat facing her on the nightstand. She smiled modestly – she remembered the day. They were taking Lauren on her first train ride – they were going to Vancouver for a weekend. A nostalgic gasp escaped her mouth, soon after her body collapsed onto the bed – dead weight. She stared up once again at the ceiling – the familiar sight – she closed her eyes after realizing it. She began drifting, floating away into a sea of tranquility. Where she believed she'd be away from all of life's misery.

Chris enters the room – he first stands in the door frame, staring at Jill. Her body still as death, yet the shallow movements of her chest demonstrated the life that still filled her body and soul. He smiles – gently – and suddenly he walks in. Quietly – his steps as silent as cat's furtive stroll. He studies the body that is stretched atop of the mattress; the body of a goddess, he thought. He felt like it had been ages since he had the pleasure of seeing it. He stands before her, staring down at her peaceful state – her eyes closed, her hand placed softly on her forehead – indicating perhaps an ache that needed to be rid of. His eyes traced the course of her legs, back up to her midsection, and finally back to her face. He genuinely loved this woman – everything about her – he kept saying it over and over in his mind. He sits beside her – without interrupting her stillness. He lowers his face – kisses her lips, softly.

She opens her eyes. Wondering why it ended – the kiss she had longed to feel on those lonely nights where she found herself in this same position. However, during those times, she'd wake up and realize that she was just dreaming. She stared deeply into his eyes, remembering their beauty – the beauty she once convinced herself she'd never see again. _Is this real?_

She sits up – he helps her. With a turn of her head, she notices two snifters and a bottle of V.S.O.P cognac waiting patiently on the nightstand. She looked at him behind interested eyes.

"I thought you could use another…I know I sure could." He spoke while standing - he begins untying his tie. "I can't believe we still had that." He continued while removing it entirely from around his neck. "I got it like 2 years ago – at a Christmas party. How lame is that?"

"There is nothing lame about free liquor – especially when it's cognac." She replied – her eyes staring at him as he removes only a few articles – tie, shirt. She looks at him - his chest, imagining seeing it bare and feeling the same way she did when she first saw it. Suddenly she looks away, shamefully – at the thought of once feeling this towards another. It had only been earlier in the day when she looked at Carlos behind the same eyes; the same temptation, lust, want and need. She sipped the drink.

"Yeah…you're right about that." He spoke while watching her stand. His eyes easily slid down the length of her body. The dress was his only obstacle – he thought. He wanted to see her without it – he needed to see her. He took a hefty sip.

She was beginning to undress.

"That was a really good show. The opening song was just…" suddenly she paused. Her hand began to tackle the small chain link of the necklace she wore. "Incredible. I've loved it ever since the first time I saw that opera." She returned the necklace to its resting place inside of the jewelry box. She attempts to grab the zipper at the back of the dress. The first half she is able to unzip however the bottom half is more difficult for her to reach. "I wonder what the name of it is…" Suddenly, she jumps – at the feeling of his warm hands upon the skin of her back. She realizes he is trying to help with the zipper. She surrenders.

"The Pyramid. Well…Die Pyramide. I read it in the booklet that they gave us when we entered." He spoke. "You don't remember because you passed the guy who handed them out." He smiled while standing behind her – his eyes staring down at her graceful neck. His hunger grew even more at this time – like that of a vampire. He was tempted to sink his teeth deep into her flesh, only because he knew it would taste amazing and that she would secretly like it. Somehow, he still managed to refrain from doing it.

He intertwined his fingers through the thin straps of her dress - slowly pulling them down. He covered her shoulders with small kisses – moving his lips along the path that led to the back of her neck. He moved his fingers between the opening at the back of her dress - down her spine.

"It sounds so beautiful." She spoke behind a relaxed whisper. He remained silent.

The thought of his hands touching her body, drove memories into her mind of her being without it as well as the memories of her being touched this way by another man. A man she didn't think would ever have that same affect on her.

She thought back to the times when she desperately wanted a man to touch her in this way – a time when she thought she would never have a man. Now she was torn – between two.

She turned abruptly – looking up into his eyes behind a rueful stare. She was confused – not obviously - she hid it well. However she knew he could tell something was killing her deep down inside – beyond the facade. He always could tell.

Her stare is haunting – full of mystery that he himself could not understand. She could notice by the apprehension within his eyes. Suddenly, she slammed her lips into his.

The War.

She forces her tongue into his mouth – without warning. He accepts – tightly holding her body as if his life depended on it. She guides him towards the bed. His knees buckle at the feeling of the mattress against the back of his legs. He falls unto his back. She straddles him – her lips still in the same place as before. She kisses him hungrily – to hide the guilt - the confusion that she is currently feeling. This was a battle she wanted to win – she wanted to maintain control – she did not want him inside of her head thus allowing him to figure things out (everything that she had been keeping on the inside). She wanted him to know that she loved only him, and that there was no other but only him. She sat up, staring down at him behind an enticing glare. She smiled while lowering the straps further down until she fully removed them from her arms.

His hands moved along the curve of her backside, sliding the dress along with them. He looks at her body – mesmerized by the beauty he had missed for so long. He smiled cunningly before sitting himself up – her body still atop his. She could feel his arousal and in knowing this he brought her body closer. He buried his head between the softness of her breasts – like a child who desires nurture from its mother.

She breathes softly, her head tilted backwards in ecstasy – she combs her fingers through his hair. Suddenly all the tension within her body is released – the moments before, while she felt unsure, did not matter anymore.

Suddenly, with his strong body, he turned over – placing Jill beneath him. His piercing stare was met with hers as he hovered over her for a brief moment. Her beauty was something that could not be ignored, and like many other times, tonight he fully recognized it. He notices the dress still halfway on her body – slowly he lowers himself and begins to pull it down. He planted soft kisses on the parts that were revealed. She closes her eyes at the gratifying touch of his lips and fingers onto her body – soon they open at the feeling of nothing. She looks at him and notices that he has began to remove his clothing. She studies every part of him, like she did earlier while he showered, only this time it was more intriguing. She wanted him. She kept reminding herself of how long it had been since she seen him this way – it had been too long.

The fuel to the fire.

He walks over to the bed where she lay – his body – naked. She briefly glances over the muscles of his arms, chest, abdomen, and then to the place she had resisted looking at earlier. He walks closer. Gently, he takes her hand into his and pulls her up – she stands before him. He attacks her – a passionate kiss that could make even an Angel weak. He draws her body closer to his – enveloping her with his warmth. A familiar feeling washed over his body – it was the feeling of exploration for the first time – the feeling of obtaining victory from a discovery. He recognized it because it was the same feeling he felt the first night he had her. The very night that had changed everything between them – for the good.

She was mesmerized; she tilted her head back with her eyes at a close. She bit her lip to refrain a whimper that had desired nothing more than to be released. He takes control, lowering his lips onto the soft skin of her neck where, hungrily, he planted soft kisses and bites. She soon regains composure and stares challengingly into his eyes – she moves her glare downward and quickly notices his arousal. His want and need for her.

Chris returns the glare and notices her undergarments. Behind an astute smile, he lowers to his knees; softly he takes the straps on her hips and pulls them down her smooth legs. Once at her feet, he glares back up at her body – naked, beautiful. He tastes her – her love, her softness, her warmth.

She breathes heavier. Suddenly the tension rebuilds within her body from scattered thoughts. Mostly of what was currently happening and from past happenings of the same nature – with a different man. Suddenly she could remember feeling the same feeling with Carlos, as she'd look down at Chris' enjoyment. She looked away ashamed.

He notices something is bothering her; something is keeping her from giving in to him. He stands to his feet – his arms wrapped tightly around her body – she doing the same. He lifts her body easily from the floor. She tightly clasps her legs around him. They stare into each other for a moment. He notices the consternation within her eyes – the unbearable look of being lost. He remains silent and plummets her with another passionate kiss. He stands there, holding her for a brief second – her love touching his – he then carries her to bed where he intended on releasing her animosity.

The rest of the house was silent – peaceful. The only interruption being from the lamp that still held power within the guest room. Wondering eyes found more necessity in the writings of the dreadful truth rather than sleep. The silence that wrapped the home was almost like an eerie blanket of death. The darkness bled all the way down into the first floor, into the living room and kitchen, as well as Lauren's bedroom. Inside – she lay, still – asleep and away from reality. Only her dreams kept her mind occupied. Just above her – the union – that once created her very own life.

Minutes turned into hours – and hours turned into an eternity.

Jill lay awake – her body was full of satisfaction that she could not understand; she had to admit it to herself. She was pleased…yet she wasn't sure if she should have been. This was the first time she had made love to him in five months. The thought killed her more than anything. She was wrestling the feeling of being wanted against being used. She despised the lifestyle, but she felt similar to what she thought a prostitute might feel after a job. She wasn't sure how to explain it – instead she was trapped trying to configure it within her mind. She knew he wanted her – however she felt like it was nothing there – as though it was something that usually happened between a man and woman – without feeling. 'A fuck' – she thought. However, she knew that to him it was much more than just that. She wanted it to be more than that as well…however she didn't feel this way. It killed her.

She lay with her back turned towards Chris – whom found great comfort against her warm body. They were both spent – he more than she – yet she remains there with her eyes opened. She listened quietly to his slumber. She felt his breath against her neck as he slept – he was alive; after - just months ago - she had convinced herself that he wasn't. He had been gone for so long, she hadn't received any form of communication from him that would prove otherwise – so eventually she accepted his death. The world came tumbling down on her the day she walked in and saw his face – after 5 months of not seeing it.

Suddenly, she felt him move, his arm settles around her waist - his hand tightly clutching the flesh of her stomach. She inhaled silently – holding in all frustration.

She closed her eyes in hopes of containing her emotion - the same tears that she had fought to keep within earlier won the war; they streamed from both eyes down unto the soft fabric of the pillow.


	7. A Slow Hot Wind

**7**

The monotonous motor of a washing machine blighted the silence within the first level of the house. Pieces of laundry decorated the floor of the room; messily arranged within plastic baskets and indicating weeks of negligence. There were two small piles of clothes that sat waiting to be next and had already been sorted and grouped. Jill adjusted the levers of the dryer and loaded it thereafter. She exited the room after completing the task that she had been performing all morning behind a sigh of great relief as she entered the kitchen from the laundry room that sat adjacent to the pantry. She and Babe were the only souls within the house.

Jill made a sudden pause in front of Lauren's bedroom door - looking inside to see the unmade bed and large masses of sheet music scattered about on the small purple table. She sighed in frustration before entering - she was irritated and had strong, almost compulsive, intentions to straighten up the mess. Babe followed her instinctively as though he had no other choice. The tip of his nose swept about the carpet of the floor as it normally did gathering every scent that he could.

"I swear…she is becoming more and more like Chris." Jill spoke up in sarcasm.

She neatly fixed the covers of the bed and moved onward towards the table that held evidence of musical mayhem. She grabbed all of the sheets and stacked them into a neat pile. On the shelves that decorated one of the walls, she looked to see a small collection of seashells and dream catchers. One caught her eye in particular; it was smaller than the rest and showed obvious signs of its age. She smiled although she had difficulty remembering where Lauren had gotten it from. She swept a finger along a framed picture of Claire in what looked to be a forest. _It must've been the day she fell out of the canoe_ Jill ended the thought behind a crude snicker.

Eventually she made her way up to the second level of the house; the guest room being her next stop. She noticed the bed and how neatly the sheets were fashioned - _Claire - _she mentioned her name behind a breath of relief. She was impressed, however very tired from a presumably busy morning or perhaps the errand filled afternoon to come. A stack of papers sat atop the surface of the desk. She lifted it and noticed that there were actually two separate stacks – she looked closer, reading the title: In the Eyes of a Guerilla Mercenary – a small side project she had suddenly urged to complete. She looked over the other: A New World of Medicine - The Pulitzer nominated article she had written just a few months ago that gave her inspiration to fire up the side project. She began reading the first paragraph - reacquainting herself with the time she actually sat down to write it. All the stakes that she took to obtain the information left her almost paralyzed as an immense amount of energy was put into completing it. Her mind grew grey with clouds yet somehow she kept forcing herself to remember it - _everything_. The information, the investigation, and the _interview_ with a person she had left behind so long ago.

**[July 09, 2013]**

**[2 ½ months after Chris' absence. (3 months before the present day)]**

_My office._

_- C.D_

A rather vague yet undoubtedly informative note left by the CEO of Publications at the highly appreciative periodical, _The Chronicle. _

This only meant one thing – a meeting. Jill sighed frustratingly, the last meeting she had with him ended with her rethinking her current career choice – harshly. He cut her down to a stump after she had grown into an astounding sequoia - he forbade her as a frightening lead writer and ordered her to write 'less effective' articles after rejecting one that she had hoped to be printed as a headliner a few years back. So in other words, she was forced to write 'the bullshit columns on the _side_ about hotel hotspots, and the best stores that offered the most discounts, or what celebrity would soon be gracing the town.' She sighed once more – dropping the letter into a small wastebasket that sat beside her desk.

"So let me guess…the _Relationship Expert_ this time…" She walked out of her office.

"Just made it." Lynn stood next to an exorbitant coffee machine as she greeted Jill – it was the fancy kind you'd figured seeing in some sophisticated café. She poured a single cup of regular coffee - stirred in two sugars, added two creams and handed it to her weary superior.

"Thanks…did you know anything about…"

"Yeah…it's a lead article. And in all honesty…" suddenly she stopped at the approach of another writer. "I think he's gonna give it to you." It came out as a whisper amongst the others that passed by and who looked to be heading in the same direction. Jill remained silent, watching as they all followed – one after the other – like a line of ants.

"It's an 'invitation only' type of thing. If you got one of those letters then you're invited." Lynn chuckled as though she were the child who arranged the _party's_ RSVP list.

"Yeah that's good ole' Charlie…I better get in there." Jill started walking through the narrow stretch of cubicles.

She passed each of them - staring longer at the one she called her own during the first year of her employment. Finally, her walk ended at the double doors of the office of Charles Davenport. The heavily detailed engravings indicated not only his wealth, but certainly his importance. She entered.

**[The Meeting]**

There were at least five people seated - the _brown-nosers_ as she would call them. The early-birds – her favorites to quietly dismember. She remained silent while walking towards an empty seat upon one of three leather sofas within the spacious office. She felt the curious glare of Charles, as he stood against the front of his desk facing all those that attended the private gathering. She sat at the hardened stare of the older – more experienced journalists that obviously didn't receive as much appreciation from the Chief as she. She laughed internally at the jealousy.

He began speaking.

"Alright folks, I understand that most of you are just starting your day…you all must be so very anxious to know why I requested you here…"

"Yeah…we're all very happy to see you too, Charles." The woman to the left of Jill, wearing a tacky yellow and red dress, spoke sarcastically. The others laughed.

Charles glanced at Jill, behind a cunning smile – one that a serial killer offers to their person of interest – that is, to lure them into a situation that they otherwise cannot escape.

"Now then." He continued. "Let's talk about why we are in fact here. Ya see, all of you, I consider my best writers – the only people that I actually give a shit about." He spoke bluntly.

Jill smirked at his sudden yet expected use of profanity.

"You have all proven to me that you are capable of writing incredible articles – the type that have people raving even months after its publication. With that being said, I have discovered a phenomenal project intended for one of you. Yes. One that I believe is capable of grasping the attention of the Pulitzer Committee." He paused while walking towards one of the many large windows of his office on the 96th floor.

"I know many of you have heard about the 'Green Facility' that has just been completed by Azareus Laboratories. If you haven't, allow me to fill you in. It is a massive complex, accurately called a 'dome' with the span of 500,000 feet at its very center – you pretty much could fit a skyscraper inside. It acts as a giant greenhouse – if you will – that has paved the way for a new approach to air and, in the near future, water filtration." He suddenly paused behind excitement while turning towards his audience.

"After the Radical Split, America lost track of pharmaceuticals and overall health in general – this facility is allowing a new start in that field. Its primary focus, like I mentioned before, is cleaner air and water – the reigning aspects of our planet that we have long neglected. This is a big thing. There are already four facilities that have been completed: the first was built 70 miles north of Los Angeles, the second found it's home in Bellevue, Washington, the third in Cloquet, Minnesota, and the fourth and final one – here in Romesville. If you know the nation well, you could figure how beneficial each location of the 'domes' are to the entire country as a whole. With all four facilities, the country (including the Devil's Playground) could see an overall improvement in cleaner air by 98% in two years. We're talking crisp clean air – with almost NO toxins. And eventually the same will be said about water. Azareus is hoping to spread this accomplishment all over the world. Do you know what this means?" he paused again turning from the window and facing the small crowd of attentive journalists.

"More money spent." A male writer spoke, followed by laughter. Jill remained content. Charles noticed.

"Yes. But also a better environment for all citizens of the world. This is life changing…much like the Internet when it first came to be back in the late 80's."

"Hmm…back in the stone age, correct?" A rather outspoken journalist spoke up - her head tilted down at her notes and was crowned by the silky black strands of her hair – her green charismatic eyes veered over black-framed glasses. Laughter encased the room once more – Jill remained an outsider – refraining from laughing. Charles noticed again.

"Not exactly."

"Who was it that thought up this idea…Morris?" the woman wearing the tacky dress spoke once more - enviously, she glared at Jill as the last word escaped her mouth.

"That brings us to the next part of our discussion. The man responsible for this life changing feat goes by the name, Carlos Oliveira."

Jill's eyes shot up at Charles as he continued to speak. It was a name she hadn't heard in quite some time. She never forgot it. Never did she imagine hearing it here – in this setting.

"Who?" she interrupted.

"Carlos Oliveira – the Chief Executive of Azareus' Environmental Division." He answered. "He was the key figure to the success of the vaccinations administered by the corporation back when it first started."

Charles grabbed a small remote that sat on his desk. He clicked a button and a screen lowered from the ceiling in unison with the shades that covered the windows.

"This guy." A large picture of him painted the screen – it was professional, a company photograph - like one fit for an identification card.

Jill stared at it longer than all others. _Carlos._

"So…this guy – figured out a way to make the air more breathable huh?" a soft-spoken writer asked. She wore a modest pink dress, her hair pinned into a tight bun – she compulsively waved an ink pen between her index and middle fingers the entire time and she always glanced away bashfully whenever Charles looked at her.

"Yes."

"So how much _exactly_ has been spent on the construction of these so called 'greenhouses'?" the woman with the black glasses spoke up once more. She held up two fingers on each hand to represent a substandard emphasis of the word "greenhouse".

"Oh c'mon - you know billions of taxpayers' dollars are funding them – it doesn't take rocket science to figure that out." The male journalist spoke once more. He was quite arrogant – more than even Charles.

"True. But they are providing cleaner air for those same taxpayers." The soft-spoken woman implied. "I mean – so what if billions are being spent…"

"Oh of course the tree-hugger here would think that." The woman wearing the tacky dress spoke harshly while pointing at the young woman. "We should really be asking how much money _he's_ banking from these so called 'Green Facilities'…"

"Again…another question that does not require rocket science…" the male journalist spoke.

"The material alone probably costs just as much if not more than it does to keep the facility operational…what exactly _are_ they using?" The woman with black glasses asked – disregarding her colleagues' arbitrary remarks.

"I'm glad you asked that. It is called Ticumnite – a new biodegradable material that shares the same aspects of glass - however it is softer, more flexible and it will not crack or shatter like glass giving it more abundance towards a variety of weather conditions."

Charles spoke as he clicked the button of the remote.

The material was displayed in raw rock-strewn form on the big screen, he clicked the button once more and the processed form of the material - in its final glasslike state- was displayed.

"So is it virtually indestructible?" the woman asked once more.

"Nothing is indestructible – everything has a weakness." The woman wearing the tacky dress commented.

"You know…I _really _love your optimism. It really complements your sense of humor." Jill finally spoke and ended the woman's rampage.

"Alright…let's stay focused here. I'll let the interviewee describe more of the details." Charles spoke as he clicked the button for the final time. The screen and shades ascended into the ceiling all at once and the lights returned to their previously dimmed state.

"Wait a minute…you want us to interview him?" the soft-spoken woman asked behind neurotic eyes.

"_One_ of you will interview him. There have been many press-conferences concerning the facility's operation – all in which he has attended-"

"And your point is?" the woman wearing the tacky dress interrupted.

Charles paused first while staring at her behind hardened eyes. "He's here. This allows us easy access to an interview."

"Isn't he busy…I mean with this new facility and all – will he even have time to arrange an interview?" Jill asked – displaying obvious uncertainty.

"No need to worry." He smiled at her.

"I'm sure we can work something out. Anyway – I want all of you to give me five pages – five pages regarding your thoughts and opinions on air pollution in general – whoever gets it on my desk before 2pm today…"

Charles paused for a brief second while staring up at the clock that hung on the wall - 2pm was only 6 hours away.

"…and I actually _like_ it - the project is yours." The room remained silent for a few seconds after he spoke.

"Any questions?"

"Let me get this straight…you want us to _compete_ for this?" the woman wearing the black glasses asked – somewhat annoyed.

"Well…if you put it that way…"

"What is this, high school?" The woman wearing the tacky dress mumbled under her breath but loud enough for the small group to hear.

They all stood from their seats and began walking towards the door. All of them laughing. Jill approached the door as the soft-spoken woman had just stepped out. She had intentions of slacking for the rest of the day – she in no way wanted the project.

"Jill – hang on a minute. I want to speak to you."

Charles took a seat behind his desk and reached down into one of the drawers. He held a cigar in his right hand and placed a stainless steel cutter onto the cherry-wood surface of his desk. He leaned back and placed the cigar between his lips - seconds later he lit the end and smoke billowed from both it and his mouth.

"What did you think about the meeting?"

"I don't know – it was entertaining. Comical, honestly." The smoke did not bother her.

"Well, I guess I can say the same. I noticed you, and…" he pointed to the seat next to where she sat during the meeting, indicating the place where the woman wearing the tacky dress sat. "…aren't exactly two peas in a pod – if you know what I mean…"

"You noticed that too huh? She still hates me for taking 'her' article - the one about Morris. She was pretty fond of the guy…"

"Do yourself a favor…don't get involved with anyone around here – I've seen jealousy ruin a lot of careers. And honestly…" he took another puff. "I can see it coming to an end very soon for her."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Ah yes…I can get a little out of myself…I apologize." He smiled charmingly at Jill. He had an attractive face for a man at his age in a 'Clint Eastwood' type of way – even had a bit of his edge, she thought. She sighed impatiently.

"Jill – I want you to do the article."

She laughed.

"I know what I said before…"

"Yeah…that you no longer wanted me working on major projects."

"Your independent research is dangerous – spellbinding, but dangerous Jill – that 'Wounded Eagle' article would've shut this entire newspaper down…and you know that. I couldn't let you write for a while…because I knew you would argue about it until I'd approve its publication. Eventually I would've had to fire you."

"Well…I'm not arguing now." She mentioned behind hidden disappointment purposely aimed at herself. "But I do want to know - if you had already made the decision, then what was the whole point of that meeting?"

"I like to keep things interesting around here. Let's face it Jill – only Lynn and I adore you, everyone else looks at you as they would, shit in a toilet. They are all so blinded by their own 'abilities' and such that they naturally can't even appreciate a damn good writer. I'm sick of the suckasses and brownnosers around here. Half of them only give a damn about getting promotions or raises anyway. You are the only one that will truly write a phenomenal article, and do you know why that is?"

"Enlighten me."

"Because you're no bull-shitter, and you've got passion…I love that about you. You are able to implement that into your writing – something that sets you apart from everyone else for sure."

She smiled only internally knowing that this was true.

"Besides…he requested for you." He took a rather long drag from the cigar – longer than normal. A putrid cloud of solid chalky colored smoke emanated from his mouth soon after.

"_He_ did?"

"Yep."

_How did he find me?_

"I'm assuming you know each other…in some way."

Jill nodded instead of answering 'no' simply to make the lie seem subtler.

"Well he asked for you – before he even agreed to do the interview."

"Hmm…must've read the article about Morris." She replied behind a clever smirk, knowing well that it were not the reason. "Maybe that won him over – like it did everyone else it seems."

"Maybe so…well..."

"Well – what?"

"What do you say? Yay?"

Jill paused for a moment, her eyes focused out of the window behind his desk at the siding of the building across from his office. Its architecture was composed entirely of steel and glass. She was beginning to figure out the purpose of the meeting.

"I don't think so…it's such short notice. I need more time." She answered - her eyes glanced over at the clock on his wall. She had been in there for a total of forty-five minutes – counting the thirty-minute meeting, yet it felt longer.

"Jilly…c'mon. You're not thinking it fully through. This could mean big things for you – and your reputation."

He stood from his seat and approached her - his arm draped comfortably over her shoulder as he guided her to one of the windows. Together they gazed out at the boundless horizon.

"My reputation?" she asked sarcastically while trying to mask the anger of him speaking to her as though she were his child.

"Well…I know you don't care too much about that."

"I don't care about trying to impress anyone...that even applies to you Charles."

"I know…but I also know that you've been gunning for that Pulitzer – I saw it in your eyes the first day I interviewed you. You have the same determination as _he_ did. Your father."

Jill drifted off in thought as he mentioned the man she had sworn never to think about again. She hated when people compared them. However, today she knew Charles only spoke truth. She was beginning to feel as though this was the only reason why he kept her around – the fact that she reminded him of her father.

"Go for it Jill. Write this article. Bring us another Pulitzer." Charles held a smile that was everything that summed up arrogance. Yet it held promising pride that gave her confidence. Much like her father.

She sighed in submission, realizing that this was in fact her reason for staying. Somehow, she felt a sense of security around him, an aura only recognizable of one man – Richard Valentine. This was the purpose of the meeting…to show how much they both needed this. She in more ways than he would ever understand.

"That's my girl. Take the rest of the day off – research, have a drink or two…or three, relax…we'll talk about the interview tomorrow. You're gonna nail it, I know it." He walked back towards his desk, leaving Jill at the window where she continued to stare drearily out at the passing world. Somehow she felt it would be sooner than she believed.

**[The Research]**

_Carlos. How the hell did you find me after all these years? _

Jill sat amongst a few others inside of the bustling Café. It was well off into the afternoon, more and more people entered and she had found herself hiding in the back of the place behind the screen of her laptop – hoping desperately not to be recognized by anyone. A notebook sat close by on the table – the first sheet was scribed with key topics she had wanted to research.

She visited the website of Azareus Labs. In the search engine, she typed his name. Immediately after, a picture flashed onto the screen – that same witty grin painted the face of the man she hadn't seen in almost thirteen years. She sat there briefly in awe, judging by the photograph not much had changed.

_And just what have you been up to these days…_

The description was very vague and did not mention much pertaining to his life-story – that which she pretty much knew already – there were only highlights of his accomplishments within the corporation given in what looked to be his profile. The most praised being the anticipated success of the Green Facilities. There were several pictures of them - the first and most recent choice titled "Site 424D – Romesville, Arizona". The design of the building was quite immaculate – the structure looked to be something built within a Royal Palace. It closely resembled the Jardin d'hiver – an astounding greenhouse in Brussels. Before this day, she had never known such a place existed. She was so out of tune with what was actually going on within the nation - her main focus being pointed towards her family instead of society.

She leaned back into the chair, her eyes a great distance from the screen. Suddenly, her thoughts hurtled back to the days of the outbreak at Raccoon City. 1998. She and Carlos fought amongst thousands of undead - those who were ruined by the horrendous T-virus – to eventually flee the city before it was wiped off of the face of the Earth. To see him then in such tragedy made her believe that hope was something that had never existed in the first place. To see him now in such a high position proved to her that she was once wrong – hope does still exist. He had changed his life – just as she did.

A sudden buzz interrupted her focus and immediately directed her eyes towards the cell phone that moved in intervals each time it vibrated. It briefly startled her and a few others around as it made its way towards the center of the table. She picked it up and noticed the time – 4:15 pm.

"Shit…" she whispered raucously. She placed the computer as well as the notebook into her bag, grabbed the black currant tea she had been drinking and exited the café.

She arrived at a house nearly three blocks away that belonged to one of few people she had considered to be her friend. A woman by the name of Sheila, Lauren's violin instructor – who agreed to look after her during the weeks in the summertime while Jill worked. It was through Lynn that the two women met.

"So what will it be tonight?" Jill pulled the key out of the ignition while opening the door.

"Whatever's edible…" the girl answered.

They both stepped out of the car and headed into the house.

Lauren passed her mother gleefully, skipping into her room - Jill proceeded into the kitchen. She paused for a few seconds – a routine that arrived at the same time on almost a daily basis. She felt the void of Chris' absence fall beneath the new revelations of Carlos. After almost thirteen years, she hadn't heard anything pertaining his wellbeing – or if he were still fighting – or even alive for that matter. Today it all came crashing back down on her. She sighed uncomfortably behind a nasty pain in her abdomen.

Lasagna – the favorite. It was the simplest and probably one of the only things she truly knew how to make. She removed all ingredients from the shelves and began the task she loved to hate.

"You're going to bed early darlin'…I've got a lot of work to do tonight." Jill mentioned while turning the valves of her bathtub.

"A bath…a read…and then you'll be seeing Z's." she smiled while pouring in bath milk.

"What kind of work, mommy?" she followed Jill out of the bathroom.

"Boring stuff. Research…you know…things that definitely won't interest you."

"Mommy…"

"Yeah?" Jill removed a large teal-colored bath towel from one of the closets within the room - more of them were neatly folded and stored inside.

"Do you miss Daddy?" Lauren's voice held a certain anxiety within it that made Jill realize it was a question that she had been pressing to ask. She was afraid to mention it just as Jill was afraid to answer.

She paused a few moments before speaking. She had finally decided to let him go, she had finally accepted the fact that he was dead and would never come back – she had hoped somewhere within Lauren's innocent mind that she would accept the same. It had been 2 ½ months already without any word from him…

"Of course…of course I do." Jill turned to face the girl who held a cold look of great sadness on her small face. She missed him dearly.

"Everyday." Jill continued and without any effort, she wrapped her arms around her.

"Is he coming back?" The question she had found herself answering everyday.

It was after the first month - _May_, when Lauren initially asked her. Now going well on three months Jill was still struggling to find the lie that wouldn't confuse the child in any way. She would always reply optimistically 'Yes – he'll be home soon. I know it.' However, today she felt the need to tell the truth – she didn't know when or even if he were coming back.

"I'm not sure honey." Suddenly she felt the words were too harsh. "Your Dad has a lot of work to do overseas…as soon as he is done, I'm sure he will come back home."

Lauren smiled comfortably – as she always did whenever Jill answered her most painful question.

_Damn you, Chris. _She found herself holding the child tighter – closer to her body. This was all she had left to remember him by.

"Now…let's get you into that bath Scarlet." She smiled while caressing the child's cheek with soft sweeps of her thumb.

Night draped over the land like the darkest of blue velvet. The stars were endless – building vast constellations as far as the naked eye would allow up until the sudden triumph of light pollution that radiated from the inner city. Babe, alone and without complaint, slumped lazily on the porch and would be the only to witness the silent beauty.

The only proof of existing life within the house was that of the office that remained closed for the recent months - as Chris had primarily used it. However tonight Jill felt the need to utilize the space - the only light within the room was of two lamps that sat at opposite ends of each other as well as a smaller one that sat upon the desk. She had selected a fine bottle of wine to go along with a fitting selection of music. _Miles Davis' 'Bitches Brew'_. She wasn't a big fan of jazz – however she admitted that it kept her focused while writing. Another attribute she exhibited from her father (she remembered he'd listen to it as he planned out his infiltration methods). She was already on her fourth glass and well through the album as she had been researching Carlos for almost three hours since the time she sat down. She came across a great amount of information pertaining to his life – most referring to his new "career", others speaking about the Liberation Front he once commanded. She hadn't found anything that spoke of Raccoon.

_Figures. _

"Los Intocables", the apparent name of this Liberation Front, was beginning to become a repetitive subject – with every five articles pertaining to the "Green Facilities" came at least three pertaining to the Front. She ignored every chance to investigate, as she wanted to keep focus on what she actually needed for the article. Finally – after great frustration at seeing more of the same topic she clicked on a link: "**El Reinado de Los Intocables**".

Her eyes scanned over the language as though they fully understood what was being said. She understood it well and that brought back the memory of Carlos teaching her every one that he knew – and how hard it was. It paid off in the end however, like he once said it would.

The article first spoke of the Front's history - he had originally started it back in early 2000, sometime after Jill had left South America. She thought back to that time vividly. She lived down there after the outbreak in Raccoon City. They parted ways with Barry, and the two of them first found refuge in Brazil. She didn't feel the need to come back to the U.S. right away seeing as how she did not have many options and did not know where to go in the first place. He had saved her life and at that time she felt the need to help him in any way that she could, her way of showing great gratitude. Here is where the two of them had once decided to fight the likes of Umbrella, by way of creating a _guerilla_ anti-bio-terrorism group, the first of its kind and one that would pave the way for the many others that followed.

Their mission was to infiltrate Umbrella's many worldwide facilities and shut them down internally thereafter – a great inspiration behind that which she and Chris founded some years later. It took a great amount of time until they finally got things moving – it was probably one of the most challenging times of her life. It wasn't the best time in her life, she openly admits that as well – but many parts of her travels throughout the country had made certain significance on her in general and made up for every obstacle that had ever crossed her path. Throughout their travels they began to realize that the country wasn't so much afflicted by outbreaks, but famine, poverty, and starvation – things that have _always_ existed. It made them realize how the world overlooks such things, while companies such as Umbrella could easily get away with murder.

It spiked anger within in her as it did back then. The article carried on about the Front's (Intocables) success – how by 2001 it had grown to well over 500 members, they saved many villages from all out civil war and even built schools and hospitals for many of those unfortunate places – their force was felt all over South America until its sudden denouement sometime in 2004 where after that, the story seems rather vague and nearly incomplete.

Eventually, she gathered enough courage to open the only write-up she had found pertaining to Raccoon City. It mostly spoke of him and "a few other citizens" who escaped the city before its destruction. Neither she nor Barry were listed amongst those survivors – which made her wonder. She quickly turned grateful after realizing that her true identity had been kept in the dark. Most people within Romesville knew nothing of her past - at first she wasn't sure if she could accept it, but after realizing how simple life were without anyone knowing, she grabbed it with open arms. The articles made her feel cold with death – that which had become her greatest fret. The past had once again began to hunt her, and it all spawn from that day - when she realized Chris wasn't coming back from wherever he was. Exhausted, she turned off the computer, grabbed her notebook, turned off both lights – and Miles. Slowly she walked up the stairs and into her bedroom – the end of the night.

**[The Interview]**

There were at least fifteen others crammed tightly into the elevator. It annoyed Jill – to the point of insanity. Whenever it stopped at a floor, the doors would open and five or more people would just stand there looking completely ridiculous. Always, at least one of them would try to squeeze in – ultimately knocking the number up to a quick thirty. She was always the last to get off seeing as her office was located ninety-six floors up, it took fifteen minutes for a usual five-minute ride. She hated mornings like these. She sighed in frustration, already she had prepared herself for the abominable migraine headache she would most likely have by the end of the day. _It's gonna be one of those days…_

She walked towards her office with hopes of not being stopped by anyone – including the only person there that she could tolerate, Lynn. But of course, she predicted accurately that would not happen.

"Jill…" the young woman approached. Her blonde hair tied low into a tight ponytail.

"Morning…what's up?"

"Why didn't you tell me you had an interview this morning?"

"I didn't know I had one..."

"Well…there is someone in your office."

"You let someone into my office without getting their name?"

"He and Charles walked out of the elevator together…they were talking – all chummy and such." Lynn handed her a cup of coffee knowing that it would lift Jill's spirits – she was used to the usual morning grogginess and this was all she knew (at least legally) that would suppress it.

"Charles let him in."

"_Him_?"

"Yeah…tall, dark...quite hot actually – he's been in there for a while."

"How long?" Jill took a fresh sip and followed it with a hefty gulp.

"Twenty minutes…no longer."

Jill sighed – figuring that it were one of two people, her father or Carlos. Honestly, she didn't know which she would rather it have been yet she sternly knew in her gut that it were the latter of the two. Her father had passed away a long time ago.

"Thanks…"

She gave the knob a gentle twist and slowly pushed the door open. She first noticed his back - he was looking out of the window behind her desk. She entered and was immediately welcomed by the strong scent of tobacco - he wasn't smoking however she could tell that he had some time before she entered. She looked down to the ashtray on her desk and confirmed her assumption.

"It's been a while…" he spoke.

_Carlos. _Jill remained silent while running all aspects of his voice through her brain.

"Too long I'm afraid." He continued while turning to face her. His eyes held a look of sudden shock. He was amazed at her – the only thing to have changed, in his eyes, was the long length of her hair.

"My…Jill. You haven't changed a bit. You look good." He smiled charmingly. "I love the hair."

She simply stared at him and honestly thought the same, however she didn't speak.

"Lost for words, eh?"

"No…I just really wanted to see if you had changed…" she walked passed him and suddenly turned to face him. "…seems like you haven't."

His personality at least – she thought. He was still very attractive. _Very_ attractive and still had that same confidence she remembered him having and his charming personality always outshined everything.

"Still have that bite I see. How long has it been Jill?" he suddenly took a seat in one of the chairs within the room.

She took a deep breath before answering. "Thirteen years…to be exact."

"Damn. It seems like just yesterday…we were together." He watched as she leaned against the front of her desk. She faced him with a rather cynical smile.

"Fighting – I meant."

He smiled while removing another cigarette from a silver case within the pocket on the inside of his coat. She didn't want to be reminded – he could judge by the timid look on her face.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all. How have you been?" she suddenly asked him.

He lit the cigarette and pushed a great cloud of smoke out of his mouth soon after. He backed it with that same witty grin she remembered.

"I've been good. And yourself?" He held the cigarette between his thumb and index finger, and extended it at her as he spoke.

"Can't complain." She was stuck interviewing him, Chris was away and perhaps dead, she was obviously losing her mind, and she found herself lost within the haunted realms of her past – _really_, _why would I have anything to complain about?_

"Well, like I said, you're looking good. Been taking good care of yourself I see."

He took a second drag – moving his eyes along the curvatures of Jill's slender body beneath the fawn pencil skirt and white blouse she wore. He never imagined seeing her in such composure – the last time he remembered seeing her, she was on edge with a pistol in her hand. Now she stood before him tightly clenching a notebook with a pen within her grasp - he had to admit however, she still looked _damn_ good.

"So…I hear you're working for Azareus now. What's that all about?" she asked – ignoring his advances.

He laughed a bit before answering and followed it with another drag. "What can I say…I needed a job."

She looked at him sharply. It caught him off guard - however he knew that the remark would bother her. That being the reason why he mentioned it in the first place - he always liked to push her buttons. She handed him the ashtray.

"I saw opportunity…and grabbed it. Thanks."

"What do you mean?" She flipped open the notebook and began jotting things down.

"C'mon I know you heard about my certain 'achievement'…the whole reason why I'm here in the first place."

"Enlighten me." She smiled – cynically once again.

"Back in 2006, the T & G strains were ruining America and it's people - in coincidently, the whole basis on why the 'Radical Split' came into motion. I came back during that time, with a new discovery – a flower with the power to end the plague. I moved to Hawaii in 2004, first landing in Haunani, a small town on the western side of the Big Island. My original intent was to look for some of my missing comrades after receiving unexpected news of their whereabouts…"

"Los Intocables." He stared up at her brief interruption.

"So you have done your research…but no. Former members of UBCS."

"What? I thought…you were the only one that survived..." she sat down – interested.

He nodded.

"Apparently, some of them still existed…I got there and learned that they had fallen to the infection, Jill. As did the citizens of the town. There weren't many of them…thank god. Umbrella secretly owned a facility there where they performed numerous experiments with the new strains that had been discovered after the T-virus outbreak. It's also where we performed most of our preliminary training, back when I was a recruit and everything seemed normal – back when I was naive. Like Raccoon, it was the major benefactor on the sleepy town's existence. It was destroyed shortly after Raccoon – both strains were released within and around the facility, as way of preventing anyone from learning of what was really going on there and paradoxically using the town as test subjects. Innocent civilians…sound familiar?"

"So Raccoon wasn't the only city that was destroyed at that time…"

"Unfortunately not. More cities actually…the original focus were small towns that were often disregarded and hardly ever touched by any form of recognition. Raccoon and Haunani were merely the royal flush of ruination thrown by the hand of Umbrella unto the table – the people of the World."

"My God." Jill replied, staring down at the notebook however she could only visualize the horror within the details that she had just acquired. She lifted her gaze back into his.

"So what exactly did you find out down there?"

"…after trekking through the dilapidated city, I entered the facility. Eventually, I found them all…there were at least fifteen of them, their bodies where still somehow preserved – even years after they had died. I can't really explain it. And I know it doesn't make any sense." He paused suddenly – finishing off the rest of the cigarette.

"They were all lying amongst this plant that somehow managed to sustain its vitality and grew elatedly within and around the ruins of the facility – there had to have been thousands of these things. The scent alone was quite strong – it was pleasant yet overpowering and it completely blocked out the odor of decomposition. I had a pretty bad cut on my hand from the steel gate in the entrance – I reached out to grab one of the flowers – I'll never forget this – right as I grabbed it, the wound stopped bleeding and the pain went away." He stared at her for a brief second – simply to gather her reaction.

"So you're saying…it healed you? And them as well for that matter?" she asked while writing.

"I investigated it more…and learned that it was once grown around the Queens Palace on one of the Solomon Islands. The civilians of the island used the flower to treat the terminally ill. It took away anything Jill – scabies, malaria, smallpox, and even worse. I had the idea of testing it against the T and G variants…I managed to get a hold of the T-strain and allowed it to corrupt my body - right as I felt the first signs of the infection I sat within concentrated steam that had the strong essence of the flower. Jill – believe me when I tell you – it is no longer in my body."

"So the _Queens Flower_ was the major component of success in the vaccinations…how does it work?"

"Well – it doesn't necessarily 'take' the virus out of your body. Somehow, the chemical components within the compound inside of the flower breaks down certain receptors within the T-virus, in the human body – weakening it – it makes it so that your body rejects the virus instead of succumbing to it. You get rid of it, as you naturally would say a cold or flu. Without turning into a monster." He smiled humbly.

She had to admit, it was very believable. However, it sounded too good to be true and she knew how those types of things usually ended. She remembered hearing about this sometime ago, but not as in depth however. She didn't know that it were _he_ who offered Azareus the concept that would later boost the corporation into a bustling prosperity.

"Wow…that's…"

"The new world of medicine, Jill. We should be using our resources around us. We have to take care of our planet – it is the only way we will know how to fully take care of ourselves. It offers answers…yet we continue to ignore them. Think about it Jill…with every disease that exists in this world there are hundreds of natural ways to resolve them."

Jill simply smiled at him with hopes of assuring him that she believed everything he confessed although she secretly harbored uncertainty towards it – she had to witness it in order to fully accept its validity.

"So is that the whole reason why you've designed these 'Green Facilities'?"

"Yes. It is. My own survival has inspired me beyond ways you can imagine. I look at myself as an ambassador of this planet."

Jill laughed. He took notice and smiled at her. He missed hearing it.

"I'd rather be that…than…" suddenly he paused.

She knew what he was going to say next. A _mercenary_ – a pawn in bio-terrorism. An awkward chime interrupted the brief silence. Carlos lowered his hand into a hidden pocket and removed a slender phone.

"Damn…looks like I have to cut this short. I have to attend to some things at the 'dome' here. Can we finish this maybe in a couple of hours…actually maybe that won't be a good idea – I'm returning to Hawaii tonight. My flight leaves at six-thirty."

"Hmm…" Jill had .

"Even better…you're the 'I have to see it to believe it' type anyway. You should come with me. I can give you a tour, the history – the works. Anything you want to know."

"Sure…" she really had no other choice.

She wanted to write a _damn_ good article even though she did not want the project in the first place.. This would allow her an in-depth experience and would make one hell of an affect on Charles. Although she acted as though she didn't care, a big part of her truly did.

"Great…well then – let's head out there."

'ROMESVILLE – ARIZONA. SITE LOCATION: 424D-114.

(FORMERLY GREAT DESERT FLATLANDS NAT'L PARK)

PROPERTY OF AZAREUS LABS. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

**NEXT EXIT**'

"So why all the way out here…why not closer to the city?" Jill asked as she veered out at the passing landscape.

They were driving south, through desert flatlands – heat wavered off of the pavement and indicated the sun's pure smoldering power. She noticed the sign of the exit ramp that lead directly to the destination of the 'Green Facility'. She saw no indications of it at first as she had been facing the opposite direction of its actual location.

"There she is." Carlos spoke.

Jill turned her head. A giant mass was all that she could see - the sunlight reflected off of the glass-like _Ticumnite_ making the structure look as though it were a miniature version of the great orb of light.

"I had it built out here because it is away from society. All of the 'domes' are situated in complete isolation and because of this we are able to work more efficiently." He mentioned as the two of them walked along the extensive entryway.

The path was uniformly lined with fifty flagpoles, all full staff with the State flag of Arizona flickering proudly in the air on each.

They approached the first set of doors – automatically they opened and as the both of them stepped into the small corridor the air pressure changed dramatically for the few seconds that it took for the doors to close. The second set of doors opened thereafter. Jill inhaled and noticed the difference within the air - it was crisper than outside. She found herself taking more exaggerated breaths just to see if she could really recognize the difference. And she did.

"This is the main atrium…where all the magic happens."

Her eyes moved about the massive interior. The ceiling looked as though it was as high up as a skyscraper – at least at its very center. The entire structure was composed of long sturdy beams of solid steel and huge panels of Ticumnite that created parallel diagonal shapes until they became thick vertical support structures at the base. On the inside, the sunlight was not as powerful as she believed it would be after experiencing its full power from the outside.

"_Ticumnite_ has a special ability unlike glass – it is capable of being dimmed. Each panel has can be set to a different intensity - this helps control the strength of the sun's wavelengths that is dispersed amongst the plants. Sometimes we need as much UV light as possible…sometimes we only need a small amount." He mentioned as they continued the tour of the first level.

There was a catwalk that stretched around the entire facility – three of them to be exact - each represented a level that led to numerous offices and storerooms on the outer walls of the facility. In the very center, a very lush garden of many different species of flora that had been kept in excellent condition grew almost to the very top. There were small paths that lead through the lush growth as a way for personnel to fully care for the plants at the root base on the lower level of the facility. A thick sheet of glass surrounded the interior rails of the catwalk on the first level to protect the plants from the constant change of the air pressure from the entrance.

"There are about five levels total – the very top houses our mechanical equipment, mostly pertaining to the dim controls and other important systems. The level beneath that is mostly used for tests – unlike the rest of the floors, it has several bridges that stretch across through the very center of the vegetation up there which allows us the chance to check the health of each plant. If you come closer to the railing – look up and you can see them."

Jill veered through the glass - her eyes shot up at one of the long bridges that had been veiled by a canopy of giant leaves from the taller species of trees. She noticed a few of the scientists that Carlos referred to.

"This is the level beneath that of course. The last two levels are subterranean – the only exception being the one directly beneath this one. Level B1 or the _Root Control Room_, although it isn't much of a room at all, as you can see is actually much wider than the levels up above. That is where research is done from the root up. There is a sizeable garden that is flourishing down there too."

She weaved her eye through the small mazes of trails that lead through the plants. Only a few scientists where walking around, some only stopping to check beneath the leaves of smaller plants.

"Level B2 – the only level that is fully underground - houses all employee facilities. Lounge, cafeterias, we even have a living quarters for those who want to remain within the facility for an extended amount of time – some even stay for several months."

Honestly, she was amazed. They proceeded to walk along the first level of the facility.

"These offices over here focus primarily on the types of plants we bring in. So far we have over 600 species here…and we are continuing to discover more and more as the days go by."

"How on Earth do you get access to these things? I mean, some – if not most – of these species aren't even American…"

"That's why I brought forward the idea of expanding worldwide. You'd be surprised at how eager most countries are to offer a helping hand in making this planet better for us to live in."

Jill veered into several of the rooms as they passed. There were huge windows beside each door that allowed for all those on the opposite side to see without any form of obstruction. There were at least twenty rooms that lined the walls and each of them seemed to have been in use. At the opposite side of the entrance, there where a line of elevators – four in total. They ended the walk before the very first.

"So I think we should work our way back down…" Carlos mentioned.

He pushed the call button and a few seconds later the second elevator opened.

"After you." He mentioned, slyly he ran his eyes once more over Jill's backside as she walked before him.

"So what do you think so far?" He was hoping to break the unruly silence.

"Sounds like you've outdone yourself." she looked at him with remorse for not taking him seriously.

She couldn't help it – everything sounded pleasant. She still needed to be convinced.

It seemed as though the elevator had made it to the very top floor in a matter of seconds.

"They are all operated by hydraulic power…we only use a small amount of electricity in here – we have to play on the whole _green_ thing, right?" Carlos joked as the doors opened.

The level wasn't as wide as the others due to its position high at almost the very top of the dome. There were sixteen different stations in total that were situated around the catwalk. She stared up into the center of the ceiling and noticed that it were a massive disk composed of the same material as the rest of the facility and looked as though it could be elevated - perhaps this is where the _filtration_ part comes into play, she thought.

"What percentage of electricity does this place actually use?"

"About 15% is electricity…the rest are divided amongst either solar, hydraulic, or wind powered energy."

"What do you use electricity for?"

"Primarily, to keep power within the generators in case of emergency."

They walked over to one of the stations. A warning was etched onto the side: ATTENTION! ALL PERSONNEL ARE RESPONISIBLE FOR CHECKING ALL LEVELS OF WELHAPP AT ALL STATIONS RESPECTIVELY.

"WELHAPP?" Jill asked – curiously.

"Water, Electricity, Light, Heat, Air and Plant Productivity." He answered abruptly.

"Each of these stations is responsible for different things." He opened up a small door on the first and revealed a panel of four different buttons – each was specifically color-coded.

"For instance…all of these are used to operate the watering system. There are activation levers on each floor, however if one or all of them override here is where we would fix the problem. Each button represents the location of each lever."

They moved on to the next station that operated the water temperatures, then on to one that operated the heating and air system, and they spent a great amount of time at one adjacent to that – the lighting/dimming panels. The others all played a part in the welfare of the facility in general. Jill wrote down all that she had learned before pulling out her digtial camera to add to the small collection of photographs she had already obtained. Eventually they made it to the very last station – the one nearest the elevators.

"Now this one – in accordance to the acronym – is responsible for giving us information concerning the welfare of all plants. If some have diseases that cannot be seen externally…we can learn about it by checking here. "

The station like all others had a screen that would normally display the information needed – however unlike the others, it was currently blank and it operated by way of manuscript. Much like a fax machine that simultaneously reads off numbers, formulas, and descriptions of each plant.

"It only responds when there is a problem and also for bi-weekly updates. For some reason, the screen hasn't been functioning correctly…so we had to go back to the stone ages."

"That's really amazing. But I have to ask you, what drove you to design this place?" Jill asked while walking beside him towards the elevators.

"I had aunts who grew gardens…my grandmother had a greenhouse – makeshift – but still it played its part. Ever since, I had always wanted to do something like that. Not exactly what you would expect from someone like me, eh? Especially considering what I ended up becoming after I left my family."

Jill offered a simple smirk - it was hard for her to imagine him having a green thumb and she couldn't recall ever hearing him speak about his family either.

"I look at it as me bringing to life their dreams…the women in my life who raised me. Before I went bad." he held great pride as she could tell within the smile that painted his face.

"I think they would've been more proud of _this_ anyway."

The elevator stopped on the next floor – it hardly felt as though it even moved.

The level was maybe a few feet wider than the top - it carried a somber aura almost as though one were hovering over a tranquil forest. The gargantuan leaves of the tallest trees brushed over the railings. She could tell that out of all floors this would probably be the most memorable for her. Verdant and crisp with vibrancy that proved to her just how well each plant were being taken care of.

"Well as I mentioned before…here is where most tests are done."

"Just what kind of tests…"

"When we say _tests_ we really mean overall care. We study the plants in order to understand the basis of their survival and what allows them to survive for long spans of time. We want to perhaps establish that into medicine." One of the scientist responded as they approached the railing where she was removing withered palm leaves that had been drooping helplessly over the side.

"Eventually…we will be able to add more years onto the lives of the terminally ill as well as those who are perfectly healthy without harsh chemical treatment."

"We have learned so many things about the world in general, simply from studying these plants." Carlos spoke as they crossed one of the bridges. There were two in total.

"So what exactly is he doing?" Jill asked as they approached another scientist who, while bravely standing on the highest post of a tall stepladder, was spraying something onto the bark, branches, and leaves of one of the towering palms.

"He's using a formula we've created called 'P68-A', a water based treatment that helps boost growth and strength. We've been using it since the very first dome's construction. You can really notice the lushness and intensity of green from up here. This formula is quite powerful…I had to get it patented right away."

"So how does this 'formula' affect the atmosphere?" Jill's eyes were still focused up at the scientist careful maneuvers.

Although the ladder was anchored firmly onto the platform, his body hovered out and over the railing. She hoped dearly that he wouldn't make the wrong step, and that she wouldn't see if he did for it was a long plunge all the way down to the bottom.

"Nothing whatsoever…at least in a negative aspect. It's made entirely of natural elements. Like majority of everything in this place."

"When you said it 'boosts the growth and strength'…"

"Let me explain. This formula is packed full of nutrients derived directly from the Earth – the basic things that living creatures need to survive. Through this creation we have managed to find a way to grow plants faster – they are also stronger and capable of handling hardships such as harsh weather conditions, disease, etc."

She wasn't sure if she was comfortable after hearing this. It sounded familiar - too familiar. A serum, that boosts the growth and strength of a living thing – it was by all means interfering with nature. They wanted to implement this into healthcare, which bothered her a little more. She remained content while trying to force herself to believe that perhaps it really wasn't as bad as she was forcing herself to believe.

…_here we go again _

"I know what you're thinking, Jill…"

She turned to face him after she had been staring out of one of the panels that looked out into lower level. They had just finished up the tour of the employee facilities, leaving the Root Control Room for last. He cracked open and handed her a bottle of imported lager from a small refrigerator that sat amongst a slew of cabinets.

"So is this how work gets done here?" she held the bottle towards him behind a shrewd smile.

"Only for our guests…" he smiled confidently.

"…Carlos – I'm not judging you. I think this is an amazing thing that you are doing…it's just…"

"You think it'll end up going sour?" he wondered, as if he truly desired to know the fate of his accomplishment.

"No…I didn't say that…but – don't you ever worry about its future? Where will it go, what will end up happening? Will your ideas really be beneficial in the end?"

"I wonder about that all of the time…but I will not be controlled by fear. I know it's hard for you to see a bright future of medicine…it was hard for me as well at first…but I believe that a new day is upon us now."

"I hope you're right."

They entered the lowest level within the foundation of the building. The bark of the towering monstrosities looked almost mountainous. Their bases were solid, giant in mass, and quite sturdy. Most of them looked wide enough even for a car to pass through.

There were eleven scientists - eight for inspection purposes and three that tended to the garden that Carlos first spoke of. From what she could see it was quite sizeable and housed many different species of fruit, vegetables, and even herbs. They were all in superb condition and grown by use of hydroponics with a major contribution from the recently developed P68-A.

"There is one last thing I want to show you…" Carlos spoke as they carried on through the lower levels.

A row of wind turbines lined the distant horizon and looked as though they were hovering over the water – they played a vital part in the facility's existence as they posed as the underlying source of wind and hydraulic power. There were at least forty from what she could see and the blades of each where spinning in counterclockwise direction – one, however, revolved in the opposite direction. The wind softly swept the loose strands of hair across Jill's face - she noted it was cool amongst the humid desert air. She and Carlos were both standing on a huge balcony that extended from the rear of the dome. It overlooked the vast blue waters of the sea, which stretched onward until it and the sky converged into one.

"…so?"

"What?"

"What do you think?"

"I already told you…I think it's great. Everything about this place – it's perfect. Almost too perfect."

His eyes lingered over her face a little while longer – he knew deep down inside she disapproved of the idea. There was no need for her to even mention anything concerning it. He felt he knew her well enough even if it had been thirteen years, they _were_ partners once.

"I have to go out there and investigate that turbine…this will only take a few minutes."

She watched as he descended the stairs that led down beneath the balcony and into a massive dock. She could overhear him speaking, Spanish, to a dockhand.

"G12 went haywire just a few hours ago – I don't know what caused the glitch. It just started to turn on its own in the opposite direction." The dockhand spoke.

"Has this happened often?"

"It happened once last week. Then again at the beginning of this week, and now."

"What have you been doing to handle the problem?"

"We've rebooted the system altogether. But it doesn't seem to be doing anything. We can't get in there manually, which is why we called you. We need your activation code."

She understood clearly that it would take longer than just a 'few minutes'. She sighed impatiently and rested her head unto her arm on the balcony's edge. Soon she saw a large sailboat shove off at moderate speed towards the turbines – Carlos and two dockhands were on board.

"So do you want to be honest with me now?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well…I figured you didn't want to finish me there – so now that we are back in your territory…let me have it." His smile made his comment more sinister – in a mocking sense.

"You think that I have something bad to say?"

"As far as I can remember…you always liked having the _last_ word?"

"I'm not the same person anymore Carlos…although you continue to convince yourself otherwise." She walked passed him irately.

"I see that you aren't…" his eyes paused at a picture high on Jill's wall. He approached it slowly.

"I see that you aren't the same at all…" he turned to face her. "Is she yours?"

Jill glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes then focused above onto the picture.

"Yes…her name is Lauren."

"Just _Lauren_?"

"Yeah - just, Lauren." She shot at him with the force of a twelve gauge. He felt its blow, and as she assumed, he shot back competently.

"Who's the father, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I do, actually."

He smiled as he continued looking at the photographs.

"Oh I see…" his eyes scanned over another. "…Redfield's kid huh?"

Jill did not answer.

"She's beautiful…" he commended.

"Look…I have some important things to take care of right now. And your flight is in two hours…"

"Trying to get rid of me, eh? It's ok Jill…I'll get out of your hair."

He stood before her, offering her a challenging smile. "Things have certainly changed…"

"Yes they have…"

"Hopefully you got what you needed today…"

"Yes. I did. Thank you." She was humble – amongst an unspeakable surge of sudden guilt. "It was good to see you…"

Still standing before her, he lifted her hand and kissed it gently while looking at her through frightfully chilling eyes.

"As always, Ms. Valentine…or is it now _Redfield_?"

He was mocking her.

"Get out of here!" She nearly shouted at him, but had to refrain as it were still during work hours.

On a normal day, not even that would stop her from letting her temper soar, a certain part of her enjoyed this challenging duel. She knew he would continue, as she hoped he would – Carlos was one to never leave a fight.

"I'm sorry Jill…I didn't mean to offend you. Look, I know I never really had a chance in the first place, but for the record – I regret missing the opportunity. Chris is a very lucky man." He looked at her hand and noticed the pale blemish on the fourth finger of her left hand. Where a ring, he presumed, once was.

"Perhaps too lucky."

"No disrespect Carlos, but my personal life is not your business. What happened in the past should be left there. You and I are different people now with our own lives to live. I have a family, and it is all I care about. You have your career and it should be all that you care about…"

He stood close enough for her to feel the heat radiate from his body. She looked deep into his eyes – those brown eyes that melted every ounce of her waking soul. He wasn't a businessman – he wasn't designed to sit behind a desk and pretend as though the world around him operated in blissful tranquility. He was meant to be on the frontlines – fighting for the things that he strongly believed in.

_Like me._

And suddenly, she was tired of pretending. She was tired of hiding – of being _normal_. Carlos brought about an aura of mutiny, even now that he had completely "converted" from his past. He had the capability of igniting such passion inside of her, whether he were mocking her or revolting beside her. She felt this way every time they were together.

"I wish it were that easy…" he pulled her body closer into an embrace he had missed just as much as he knew she did.

His full lips landed firmly unto hers in the form of a kiss that was deep and passionate. It held solid structure – as did the mercenary. Something that set him aside from every guy that she had ever kissed - even Chris.

She neglected to fight and because of this it grew into a smolder. Carlos ran his hand along her backside - slightly lifting Jill's left leg up against his right. He pushed her body against the desk with great force. She lifted her hands and placed them firmly against his chest attempting to get him off behind weak shoves that honestly demonstrated a natural want for him. If she really wanted him away, he would've been on the floor already – begging for his life.

"_Jill."_ The speakerphone had apparently been set to the highest volume pitch and made her jerk away from Carlos' fervent kiss. Her breaths were labored, as was his. She rested her head against his shoulder realizing where the situation had almost gone.

She reached behind and gently pressed a button. "Yes?"

"_Charles on Line 2." _

"Alright, I'll take it in a moment. We're just finishing up." She responded into the intercom.

"You have to go." She spoke sharply although the intensity was hidden behind a whisper, while standing from the desk she adjusted the skirt that had been rumpled high - revealing her thighs.

"I see you're still attached to him…even though he's so far from you."

"What makes you think he's not here for me?"

"Jill…I've been neglected for most of my life. I can recognize when it is happening to someone else."

"He isn't neglecting me." Her eyes were weary. He noticed.

_Denial. _

"Well…you've made your choices…and I have made mine – but I still consider you a very important part of my existence. Whether you want to hear that or not…_partner._ If you ever need anything, come to Kauai. I live there now. Don't be a stranger." He winked at her before approaching the door.

"Até a próxima vez bonita…" He exited her office.

It was Portuguese. She exhaled and finally she answered the call.

_Until next time…_

"Good night Scarlet." Jill planted a soft kiss on the girl's forehead while spreading the covers over her body.

"See you in the morning." She switched off the lamp and exited the room soon after.

Back into the office, once again she found herself in the same position as the night before. Now that she had seen him, she desired to know more about his life during those thirteen years that she had not heard from or about him. She had hoped that he wouldn't be as striking as he was, yet on the other hand she openly admitted to a strong desire for a provocative challenge. Her vulnerability had warped her morals and motives into a competitive game of promiscuity. She needed the attention – even if it were inappropriate. He saved her life as she walked the tightrope of death just moments before she became another victim of the infection. It was so long ago and even now she felt as though she still owed him everything.

_Nina Simone_ fit the moment perfectly. The power within her voice and the piano she also mastered poured out in thick harmony through the speakers of Chris' impressive stereo system. _Sinnerman_ has always been a favorite – mostly because Jill's mother used to play it a lot during her childhood. Chris bought the album back when they lived in California after confessing a 'closet-love' for the High Priestess of Soul. She disregarded the thought and replaced it with the horrid reality of his absence. She returned to the article – Carlos' picture painted the screen of the computer.

_That kiss_. With those lips - their firmness. He always broke into a sudden burst of passion after he'd work up her aggravation. She hadn't felt anything like it in quite sometime.. She remembered it being somewhat special to her – they once fought together – she never really thought to refer to him as a 'partner' simply because she knew there was only one who was worthy enough to fill that position. The only person who was truly her best friend. She rethought the term at this moment – she did feel neglected – she had to admit, Carlos was right.

Neglect was a dark part of her life that she had hoped to avoid yet she knew the inevitability of its reappearance. It's what drove a crippling wedge between the trust she had in her parents. It's what made her hate Wesker, as well as Irons for that matter, and the many others like them. Now she suddenly had begun to feel that very disgust towards the only person she had ever trusted. _Chris._ And suddenly, that witty grin swept the alleys of her thoughts as she remembered Carlos mentioning this earlier. Her own guilt seemed to fill the void. That same guilt helped her understand just why he brought it up in the first place - she had once neglected him.

_Karma. _

She rested her fingers onto the keyboard - perhaps she was waiting for a single thought to pass by and for both knowledge and courage to implement it into writing. She glanced over at her notes – those she had documented during the _interview_. At that moment, they appeared illegible as though she hadn't written it herself. Perhaps it was her conscious punishing her like it had been for the past couple of months. Or maybe it was her frightening desire for the truth on all levels. Most likely, she is taking everything a bit too seriously.

_I ran to the Lord…please help me Lord…don't you see my praying…don't you see me down here praying…_

The song continued on, pouring through her and intoxicating her as the Petit Sirah she had been drinking. She felt there was no escaping the likes of agony. No matter how long you have been without it, somehow…someway, it finds its way back into your life.

She stood from her seat and made her way towards the door. She walked up the stairs, with a hand placed firmly at the side of her neck in attempt to release the unwanted tension that had built up there. Once in the bedroom, she began searching through a shoebox that had been stashed away in one of the dark corners inside of the closet. Out of it she removed a smaller wooden box. She opened it and removed a few items from it.

She sat with her legs folded in half lotus, behind wishful thoughts that she had continued yoga instead of quitting. After five minutes of wondering how she had made it to this level in her life, a level she had formerly looked down upon, she had successfully rolled herself a spliff and one that she considered her best. Never in her life had she imagined using substances of any kind – however, she felt the need to forget about her grief. It was the only way she'd be able to focus, without any mental distractions whatsoever.

Medication was the only alternative and she disapproved of that even more. She looked over it briefly remembering the day she caught Lynn sparking one inside of her car in the parking lot. She laughed to herself, remembering the embarrassment that washed the young girl's face. She then thought back to the shame that washed over her own as she asked for the number to Lynn's 'friend' just a few days after that.

"Let's hope this helps, Babe."

She returned to the first level of the house.

The music within the office had still been playing. She could hear through the partially opened door. She closed it while hoping that she did not already wake Lauren. Silently, she moved through the living room like a burglar at night. As she passed the child's room she caught a quick glance at her deep slumber – a fourth of her worries had vanished. Babe followed closely behind as she entered the kitchen and then exited out of the back door.

She sat down onto the porch – Babe doing the same beside her. She placed the joint between her lips and with one hand she petted the top of his head.

"Good boy." As of this current time, he rightfully deserved the title as man of the house and she felt no remorse for reclaiming it.

She lit the end several times before she was able to get it to burn on its own. The winds were heavy. Immediately after the first billow of smoke surged from out of her nostrils, she felt the affects swarm her. It was a relaxing, euphoric sensation that soon washed over her entire body as it stifled the booziness that had been perpetuated by the wine. She had never used cannabis before, and made a vow to herself that she would never even consider it – these past months however would mark a major change within Jill's entire being. However, there was also tobacco along with it – which countered the euphoria with a sharp biting edge to the smoke as she took it down. It helped her stop bashing herself for doing something that she could've sworn she'd arrested kids for – back in her police officer days.

_I was a police officer. _

_Damn. _

_I __**was**__ a police officer once._

She laughed and continued smoking – thinking to herself while her eyes fell in intense admiration with the ghastly blue moon.

_Was I a good cop? Or a horrible one? _Babe let out a fierce bark. For a strange reason she felt as though he were answering her thoughts.

_Am I am I good person? Or a disgusting one?_ He stared at her behind confident eyes that benefited her better than her own words.

"Thanks…pup." She smiled, petting his head again – slowly she moved her hand down his back where she gave two hard pats onto his side.

Jill sat in front of the screen once again – ready, her mind focused and steadily arranging the flow of the article. She began by outlining the points she first wanted to make and the order at which she wanted to make them. She primarily used her camera for this more so than her notes, simply because it was much easier for her to implement words from a visual source. Facts where pouring out of her at an immeasurable rate, and before she could realize it she had well over ten pages that had been completed. She called it quits once she had surpassed her goal and narrowly approached the thirty-second page.

_This is all I have, Charles. _

She saved her work and printed the draft in its final form. The music had long ago ended; she didn't realize it however seeing as how focused into her work - or perhaps Carlos she really was. She exited the room after turning off the computer, lamps, and the inactive stereo. She smiled while checking in one last time on Lauren - soon after, she ventured up the stairs to eventually meet her own slumber.

**[The New Deal]**

"Here it is."

Jill tossed the paper onto Charles' desk as would an angry officer a file of some vicious criminal before a heated interrogation. Her face was emotionless although she hid a great measure of anguish. He was speaking furiously on the phone to an unlucky soul on the opposite end. He waved her off, behind an obnoxious smile.

"I'll look it over and give you feedback." He spoke amongst his prior conversation with his hand covering the receiving end.

She returned to her office thereafter.

She slowly sat into her seat and relaxed for the time being. Lynn had left a piping hot cup of coffee on her desk – the way she liked it. She was thankful. It hadn't been fifteen minutes before she received a call from Charles - she figured she'd have maybe a few seconds to spare for her sanity.

_In this place…never._

"I'll come there." The only thing he said after she answered the phone.

She sighed through staggering frustration and exhaustion after hanging up the phone. She cradled her head onto her hands before she heard the door open. Immediately, she felt the over-confident aura of her "superior" as he approached her desk.

"Jill…darlin' – don't tell me _this_ is it…" he held the stack in his hand.

She looked at him with eyes that moved lazily onto the stack that had made it back onto the surface of her desk. She knew he didn't read it fully through, he merely counted the pages.

"That's all I was able to get from yesterday's interview." She answered calmly.

"I want you to do it again...second times a charm."

"No, Charles…"

"What do you mean _no_? Jill you're the only person that I trust to do this. This is good…but it isn't good enough."

"Then perhaps you should find someone better to write it."

"You ARE my better writer."

"It's impossible for me to gather any more information at this time."

"Why is that?"

"Because he went back home – he left for Hawaii last night."

"Hmm…" Charles took a seat in front of her desk. "That certainly makes it difficult..."

Jill looked at him, slightly amused and awaiting something clever to leave his speech.

"Looks like you'll be going on an early vacation Jill…you have sunscreen right?"

"Absolutely not…I can't do it. I WON'T do it."

"C'mon only a fool would pass up an opportunity like this." He noticed how the words affected her and quickly countered.

"I didn't mean it like that…look, what is _really_ stopping you from doing this? Be honest with me?"

"I have obligations…like a nine year old that I cannot neglect." She spoke defensively. _At least one of us has to be here for her. _

"You didn't think I meant for you to leave the angel at home alone now did you? For chrissake Jill – I am a parent myself."

She knew that he was, and remembered the number being up around five or six or perhaps even more - Charles was, by all means, a "man-whore". He moves around like air. Not even god truly knew how many offspring he fathered.

"I'm not paying thousands of dollars just for an interview, I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous Jill. You've never experienced the perks of being a journalist. Especially one that is employed at this place. As far as you should be concerned…it's already taken care of."

She remained silent at first, behind vigorous eyes. She constantly asked herself how and why she had gotten herself into this position and, as always, she'd remind herself that it were her own fault that she attended the very first interview and accepted Charles' offer thereafter. Her problem was she couldn't admit defeat - if she enters Carlos' territory no telling what she would fall victim to. However, there was still a part of her that felt the strain of a void that she had desired to fill with some form of escape. A vacation = BINGO! What made her relax a little more was the fact that Lauren would be by her side.

"I'll send you all the information concerning your reservation, plane tickets, etc. Take the rest of the day to yourself - get a new bathing suit or something. A bikini would be nice. Get the angel a new one as well."

He stood from the seat, smiling at Jill as though he were attempting to make an advance, she knew it was just his way of getting what he wanted. Women often mistook his charm as flirtation – some even going to the extent of filing sexual assault complaints against him. This was only a mechanism he used for manipulation. He mastered it - she had to admit.

"Enjoy first class." He commented before exiting the room.

"You're here awfully early."

Jill stood on the opposite side of the doorframe, smiling almost uncomfortably at Sheila.

"I know…I'm terribly sorry. I should've called."

"Don't be silly…come in. Your timing is actually dead-on, we're making brunch." The woman mentioned as she walked into the small kitchen.

Jill followed closely behind. She looked around and noticed the arrangement of furniture within the crowded space and wondered why this had to have been the smallest room in the house.

"Look who's here, Lauren."

"Mommy?" she yelled and ran for Jill - hopping into her arms as though she hadn't seen her in a long time.

"I got out of work early today. I have some rather…'interesting' news to say the least." Jill looked at Sheila and silently mouthed, "I need to talk to you."

"Lauren, why don't you go and get the sheet music for the recital and let your mom hear what I showed you?" Lauren obeyed and disappeared into one of the rooms of the house.

"Thanks." Jill took a seat upon one of the stools that sat against the bar of the kitchen – the only place to actually sit.

"What's up?" Sheila asked, while emptying freshly squeezed orange juice from a processor into a glass pitcher. She reached down and from a cabinet she removed champagne.

"Mimosa?" she asked, although she was well into pouring Jill a glass.

"Thank You. Ok – what would you if you were given a chance of…a lifetime - you want to take it but many circumstances around it make it rather…depraved."

Sheila only responded silently and behind perplexed eyes. "_Depraved_, eh? Explain more."

"Charles finally caved in…"

"Ah, it's about time that bastard let you get back to where you belong."

"Psh…I know. This time, it involves an interview – an interview that I have to travel halfway across the world to obtain."

"Doesn't sound too depraved to me."

"The interviewee is a person from my past, a person that…well, I once cared for."

"Oh, now I see where this is going. How long has it been since Lauren's father has been away?"

Jill sighed. "Almost three months. Two and a half to be exact."

"Damn…I can imagine how you are feeling right now."

"Vulnerable?"

"Yeah."

"You think so." She sighed again.

"Without a doubt. That happens to a woman who hasn't had any attention for a while. I'm going through this as we is this guy?"

"A part of my past I had long left behind – and never imagined reappearing…and quite like this. His name…" Suddenly she wasn't sure if she should mention it, but she honestly did not see any harm that would protrude from it.

"Carlos."

"Carlos, huh? Does Chris know of this guy?"

"Yeah. Well sort of. I mean, he knows he exists. But I don't think he really knows anything of our past history."

"Hmmm, a _history_ huh?"

"Yeah…it's a long, drawn-out story." Jill hoped she wouldn't want to know more.

"Well where exactly are you going?"

"Hawaii...the island of Kauai. Charles is paying for it, thank goodness. That's the only thing that provokes me."

"Hot damn! Hawaii? Dude…you better take it."

"You think I should?"

"Hell yeah you should. If you don't…then hell, I will kill you myself and take it! I've never been to Hawaii."

Jill laughed. "How did I know you would react that way? Neither have I."

"Hey if you need me to look after Lauren, you know its no problem."

"Oh there's no need…she's actually coming with me."

"Oh yeah…then definitely go. It'll be good for you and Lauren. The both of you need to experience a good time for a change. It'll help take your mind off of _everything_. You both deserve it."

Sheila smiled, and placed a platter full of fruit, bacon, three different types cheese, and freshly baked scones on the countertop before her.

"Lauren…food!" she announced out of the kitchen.

Jill sat in deep thought although the conversation had changed. Sheila was right – the both of them needed this, it was the break that she had been praying for. A break from mental anguish, depression, sleepless nights behind days full of despair - even if it meant that she would be confronted by her own battle with loyalty. They had been waiting to see Chris again, yet each day that passed only deepened the wound. Maybe, she thought, karma had finally dispelled.

"So Scarlet...how do you feel about taking a mini-vacation?" Jill spoke as she veered out at the traffic signal that had been flashing yellow.

"Mini-vacation…where?"

"Somewhere warm…lots of beaches…palm trees…mountains…"

"…candy?"

"Yeah…most likely there will be candy…" She laughed. "We're going to Hawaii."

Lauren remained silent at first. Her concentration primarily focused on the newest dream catcher that she had planned to eventually make. She wanted the yarn to be purple – her favorite color and she was quite eager to try a different weaving technique. She sketched it out on a small notebook.

"Cool." She answered slyly.

Jill imagined she'd be either extremely excited or seriously disappointed – Lauren's reaction was somewhere in the middle.

"So I'm assuming that's why we are heading for the mall?" Lauren asked with her eyes still focused down onto the sketchpad on her lap.

Jill glanced over at her – slightly disappointed that the girl figured out the small surprise.

**[The Trip]**

**July 13, 2013 – 2 days later. **

Romesville International Airport

"**Aloha! Greetings from the Big Island**." The title of a simple postcard that looked as though it should've been found at some roadside gas station in the middle of _nowhere America,_ where the only paradise you could ever dream of getting was in fact this small palm sized novelty. It displayed an image of a tranquil beach on what looked to have been a gorgeous day. A wave had just barely made it ashore when the picture was taken - the sun was setting, the sky faded beautifully from purples and blues into deep reds and oranges, while a small group of palm trees posed indefinitely in the foreground and faded into a lush strip amongst the rest of the beach. Her eyes moved over the others on the rack that where also awaiting purchase.

"Mommy!"

Jill looked at Lauren with the postcard still tight within her grasp.

"The plane is boarding."

She replaced the card back onto the shelf and grabbed her luggage - Lauren handled her own. The two of them exited the small shop and soon approached the gate at which their plane had already begun boarding.

"ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS, WE WILL BE ENTERING HAWAIIAN AIRSPACE IN LESS THAN 12 MINUTES. "

Lauren's body scuffled about in the seat adjacent the window - she had been fighting in her sleep to find the position that was most comfortable. A small knitted blanket covered her body – it was warm and thick, as Lynn had intended it to be. Jill glanced over at her - she didn't understand exactly why she felt certain guilt while tracing the girl's face with her eyes at this moment. She couldn't explain why all of a sudden she began thinking of her past, one of the most heart retching times of her life that she had wished never to revisit. Why all of a sudden she loved Lauren a little more now than she did a day…a week…or a month before. She exhaled, closed her eyes and tilted her head against the headrest of the seat.

She reopened them to meet the scenery outside of the window. They where flying in the early evening, around 7:30 pm Hawaiian time - the sun was posted just above the horizon amongst the orange sky. Clouds wavered around the plane and made the approach rather rough. The first thrush abruptly shook all those who had been asleep from their slumber. She looked around at the other passengers and noticed that they were mostly businessmen – suited up, with their briefcases sitting securely on their laps. Streaming thoughts of infidelity and disloyalty painted a vivid assumption of why, with their obnoxiously expensive wrist watches and misplaced wedding rings, they ventured faraway to such a mesmerizing place. To her disappointment, her thoughts helped her to remember her own reasoning for being amongst the estranged men.

_Am I any different?_

Her eyes caught a quick glance of the Mauna Loa in all its glory and noticed, although they were thousands of feet above, how it still dwarfed the 747 that they were traveling in. This was her first time to the state and she had to admit - she felt as giddy as a child at Christmas upon the sight of it. She had always wanted to visit Hawaii, she only dreamt of visiting the island and she never imagined she'd visit under these very circumstances.

_Better than the life threatening kind, I guess._

Ironically, she wondered why she hadn't heard of anything pertaining to an outbreak. Not that she desired such news – it was just something that she had to admit was rather odd. She was thankful nonetheless, seeing as how she had more important things to care for in her current life. She thought, what would it have been like to have had Lauren back during that time after the destruction of Raccoon? They wouldn't have had a chance. Running within a group was one thing, but having an innocent child in your arms made running a lot harder.

"It's ok." She kept whispering to Lauren as she clenched tighter and tighter against her mother's chest as the plane prepared to land.

"ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS, WE ARE PREPARING FOR LANDING. PLEASE ADJUSTS YOUR SEATS INTO THE UPRIGHT POSITION AND MAKE SURE THAT YOUR SEATBEALTS ARE AT A SECURE FASTENED. WE ASK THAT NO ONE ATTEND THE RESTROOMS OR UTILIZE THE CENTER AISLES UNTIL WE HAVE LANDED AND COME TO A COMPLETE STOP. THANK YOU."

Lauren gave Jill's hand a tight squeeze, as the turbulence grew more intense.

"It's ok…we're just landing."

Lauren's body jilted like a bolt of lightning at the sudden thud as the wheels scraped against the runway. Eventually the plane came to a halt, the tension within Lauren's body eased and her grip loosened on Jill's hand.

"See…that wasn't too bad."

Soon after they exited the plane.

The interior of the airport was heavily garnished with flora that was without a doubt native to the island. Flowers pluming with intense color decorated the planters on the floors and ones that had been posted high on the walls. From the wall posts, draped long vines that were accented with stunning orchid flowers. The interior was as massive as several gothic cathedrals, combined - it was godly in its own right. The windows span as high as the ceiling where at the very top the flag of Hawaii draped gloriously down and covered half of each window. The setting sun cast an amber glow throughout the airport and although it had been well into the early evening people moved about as though it were the middle of the day.

Jill stood before the luggage claim as Lauren slouched lazily unto the edge of it. The conveyor belt moved rather slowly and the luggage of all passengers passed before them several times before they recognized their own. Once found, they dragged it, along with their tired bodies towards the entrance. Standing beside the door stood three employees who had been singing and obviously more energetic than all that had passed by. They were dressed in hula attire and kept repeating "Aloha" as people approached. If one responded back in the same way, they were given a beautiful Lei to wear around their neck. Jill could tell simply by the captivation within Lauren's eyes that she wanted to partake in the island tradition.

"Welcome to Kauai – J. REDFEILD."

Lauren was first to notice the man standing at average height holding a sign with her mother's name scribed onto it. He stood besides a continental town car that looked as though it were awaiting the head of some mafia. Jill just loved the smile that painted his face as she approached - she wondered if he'd even realize he were doing it or that he had spelled her name wrong.

"He spelled it wrong Mommy…" Lauren whispered amongst a heedless laugh.

The two of them sat quietly in the backseat as they proceeded along a main road that eventually led to the hotel at which they were staying. The sky had faded into soft bands of pink nearest the horizon and dark blue further out – it was the end of the day. She yawned – a long drawn-out, mentally drained yawn - the type that made your eyes and head feel heavier afterwards.

Lauren had been sleeping since they left the airport and somehow her weariness leaked out and onto Jill - she sat with her head nestled against the door as though it were a plush pillow. Eventually they came to a halt before a gargantuan building that had been nestled within a lush vegetation of palm trees.

**Imperial Coral Beachfront Hotel**

Jill read the sign that sat in front of a huge fountain that acted as a roundabout at the very entrance. Small water jets shot up from the bottom and cascaded in graceful arcs around two beautifully sculpted raised basins at the very center. Lilly pads trimmed with beautiful lotus flowers decorated the surface of the water and wavered about from the moderate pressure of the jets. A pathway composed entirely of terra cotta stone extended around the fountain and lead to the entrance of the lobby. The building in its entirety looked as if it were designed by an architect of Mediterranean descent - there were lots of windows – smaller post-modern looking ones for the rooms and bigger, more elaborate ones that had been made of color-less stained-glass for the main floor. Two bell towers were harnessed at both ends of the building although, from her point of view, she could only see one bell in the southern tower.

As one would imagine, the interior was just as impressive as the exterior. Most of the fixations were composed of wood that looked as though it had been cared for each day of its existence. In the very center of the lobby-entrance, stood a tank that had been built to resemble a column that was anchored from the ceiling onto the floor - it housed a variety of species of coral and fish from around the world. The lights were set low and the evening sun added to the simplicity of the chilled aura. Slithers of bossa nova music passed through the air from small speakers set high on the ceiling. They had received two additional lei's as they approached the front desk. Lauren loved it.

"Checking in please." Jill's fingers tapped impatiently on the marble countertop – her attempt to keep her excitement at bay.

"May I have your name please?" the older woman wore a tight-lipped smile and looked as though she had been doing it every day since her first day there.

"Yes, Jillian Redfield." It sounded surreal to her – even more so now than it did the day she legally changed it. She hadn't used her full name in a long time, however she figured it was probably the name Charles had given to make the reservation.

She was right.

"Ah yes," the woman spoke after five long minutes of mouse clicks and head nods.

"Room 721…our Executive suite." The woman's smile softened and admittedly helped her to relax a little more, more than even the setting Hawaiian sun.

"Here are two copies of the key. If any of your requests weren't met, don't hesitate to let us know here at the front desk. The elevators are just around the corner there. Enjoy your stay, Mrs. Redfield."

_Requests? _Jill nodded behind a smile.

They wheeled their luggage through the lobby and up seven floors via the grand elevators – all whilst hoping that the room would be a clear shot upon exit. The entire ride was full of nothing more than silent yawns and the flaccidity of their bodies against the mirrored walls made evident their exhaustion. It finally stopped and it seemed at that moment the both of them gathered an extra pinch of energy that propelled their bodies down the seemingly endless corridor - within one minute they found the room.

The darkness was interrupted by the light that entered from the hallway through the opened door. Jill wrapped her hand around the wall nearest and gently flicked a switch that in turn activated a light at the very center of the room. It was quite a stretch – the room had a large circular foyer of its own and there were three separate rooms surrounding it - a master bedroom, a master bathroom, a small kitchen with an attached breakfast room, and a living room. The bedroom looked to be the first of Lauren's interest as she ran ahead without annotation of any kind. Jill followed closely behind, leaving the heavy luggage by the door.

"Wow mommy…this place is huge!" She leaped unto the bed with what little energy she had managed to gain after exiting the elevator.

"Yeah…it is..."

Jill answered amongst a tired nod - she walked over to the drawn curtains and opened them almost furiously. They were residing on the "setting side" of the hotel - the side that overlooked the beach and the southwestern horizon.

"Check out this view, Scarlet. You thought the bed was great…" the young girl obeyed her mother and stood beside her at the window.

"I kinda miss Babe…" she caught a quick, puzzled glare from Jill that later turned into the same as her own.

"…so do I." Jill mentioned. "Sheila's looking after him though…he's in good hands, don't worry."

"Yeah…I know."

"I know how you feel though." She turned her head back out towards the beach.

" Can we go down there…tomorrow?" Her eyes were promptly directed toward the amber sands that brimmed of serenity and people.

"Yeah…we'll spend the entire day together tomorrow. We can do whatever you want ok." Jill's smile was promising – encouraging.

"Ok. So…what are we gonna eat for dinner tonight?"

"Let's do room service…I'm too tired to go scout for food." Jill walked out of the bedroom while speaking.

She noticed the marble floor and matching ceiling of the foyer, it made her wonder who had resided in the room before - perhaps the Queen of England, maybe a couple of crime bosses, most definitely a slew a celebrities…who _really_ knew? Other than the hotel employees of course…

_You've outdone yourself this time…that's for sure Charles…_

She walked into the bathroom and took instant notice at the giant whirlpool tub that sat cradled within a sturdy terra cotta stone frame. Directly to its left stood a shower that could comfortably fit two or perhaps three people, next to it the sink, and finally a toilet. All were composed of pure white porcelain that made evident the passion of the person who polished it. The faucets and fixtures were golden and added to the already mythical charm. The living room was just as elegant as the rest of the suite - a massive flat screen television was set high on a wall of sandstone above an impressively crafted fireplace, several expensive sofas were set comfortably around, and coffee tables that looked as though they cost more than the room itself. It was honestly the best hotel room she had ever gotten for free.

"Mommy…I found a menu."

"Nice!"

Her eyes landed onto a small safe-like cabinet within the quaint kitchen. It sat beside a moderate sized refrigerator that had already been stocked with food. She opened the small door, and found every bottle of whiskey she had ever thought to try.

_Requests. _

"_Get behind those ears…"_

The sound of splashing water dominated amongst the quiet setting in the rest of the low-lit room. Dirty plates and cups were piled impatiently unto the small cart that once held a meal that could happily feed a family of four. The television flickered about and was set to MTV. It was muted, yet the images portrayed exactly what was being said although it was being wholly ignored.

"_Where does hair come from…and why does it grow there…and there?" _

A question that seemed to set the control for many more of its nature afterwards.

"_You'll understand someday…when you grow up – and become a woman." _

Suddenly, the faucet became active. "_My hands are all wrinkly…" _

"_I know…let's get you out of here…" _The faucet was once again dormant.

Jill helped Lauren out of the tub with much appreciated assistance from the incredibly soft hotel bath towel. She had wrapped one around herself just a few moments before. She stood behind Lauren while drying the child's hair. The both of them stood before a full size elaborate mirror - Lauren watched as her mother ran a brush through the short strands of her tangled hair. Her eyes ran the course of Jill's face and noted the intensity within her concentration – it was as though she were diffusing a bomb, that's at least what Lauren thought. A tiny snicker made Jill slightly look at the girl's reflection in the mirror.

"What?"

"You look like those people in the movies…you know, when they are about to stop the bomb that is about to blow up an entire country – there's always two cords to choose from, the red or the green."

"Well…it's not that easy in real life, ya know?

"Really?" The child grew interested.

"Yeah. It take a lot more than just that. It's an entire thought process combined with calmed nerves."

Lauren yawned which led Jill to do the same. Soon after they both hit the mattress with full force.

The next day was every bit of delightful as the sun posted high over the distant mountaintops. It was just a little after noon and a somber air of relaxation completely overwhelmed all those who had just recently left behind their normal chaotic lives. The sky was blue and held not a single cloud for miles – its mirror, the ocean, was immense and looked as marvelously inviting as what lie above it.

"Mommy, hurry up!" Lauren took lead as Jill followed behind on the wooden beamed catwalk of the pier that was most likely the entrance to the beach.

"Slow down Scarlet…the ocean isn't going anywhere…"

Lauren truly felt that it was however and hesitated no further in charging full speed ahead towards the massive stretch of water. At first she took minor notice at her mother's demands from afar, and then took careful steps after recognizing the fury within her concern. The catwalk ended with sand that had already begun to absorb heat from the sun – however one would only notice if they were standing still. Lauren had already made it to the edge of the beachfront and submerged her small body into the engulfing waves as Jill crossed the threshold from land onto the beach.

As a mother, she felt threatened– as though the waves were vicious monsters that had easily demolished the girl but as a natural-born free spirit she trusted them. She preferred not to place her feet on the hot sandy surface from memory of its bite instead she found comfort amongst the wooded pier that bordered the length of the beach and separated it from the rest of the island. Her eyes kept their mark on the young girl who kept waving for her mother to join her careless clashes into the water. Jill waved back signaling that she was quite comfortable in her current position but that she was standing by.

"Well-well…I didn't think you would come so soon." The voice startled her, but only because it had briefly interrupted the silence that surrounded her. She recognized it nonetheless, and with that being said she secretly enjoyed its sudden presence. Slowly she turned to face it.

"Surprised?"

"Yeah…I am."

"…and you should be. This is way out of my element." She set her eyes back onto the ocean before continuing to speak.

"But I can deal with it." A sly smirk painted her bare face. He admired it for few seconds before his eyes were broken away from rapidly approaching footsteps.

"Mommy!" Lauren came running, soaked from head to toe, and with what looked to be a midsized conch shell in her hands.

She stopped suddenly at the sight of the stranger standing unseemly close to her mother. A stranger that definitely was not her father, yet she could sense an uncertain bond between them.

"I found this…" she mentioned with less excitement as before. Her eyes were still locked onto Carlos.

"Wow Scarlet…this is beautiful." She commended the child before noticing that her sight had not left the likes of Carlos' face.

"Carlos this is my daughter…Lauren this is Carlos."

Jill watched as he kneeled before the child, eye-level so that she could see straight into his sincere stare. He knew this would be the only way to gain even an ounce of trust, she being Jill's blood and all.

"Well hello there…you know what they do to pretty girls who are visiting the island for the first time?"

"No." she mentioned drily but behind a spark of interest.

"They _lei_ them." He spoke humorously, knowing that he'd have to suffer a deranged stare from Jill.

He draped a beautiful lei made of magnolia around Lauren's neck. "Sorry…I don't seem to have one for you…" he spoke at Jill amongst Lauren's boisterous cackle.

"It's ok…we've been getting _lei'd_ since we left the airport." She smiled. "I've gotten plenty…"

"I bet you have…"

The day had finally begun to pass over and the sun suddenly lacked its brutal force as its post at high noon. She had realized that they were there for at least 3 ½ hours, she and Carlos spending most time together amongst conversation and margaritas until he felt the urge to charge for the beach and join Lauren's cannonball contest – a trait she obviously inherited from her father. She couldn't help but notice the trust within Lauren and how she had offered all of it towards Carlos that quickly regardless of the fact that she didn't know him - something that Jill was honestly more afraid of than actually seeing him. She could also notice her own trust, and how it was beginning to resettle amongst her previous doubts.

"Hey…she's a pretty good swimmer…" Carlos spoke as he and Lauren approached Jill on the dock.

She struggled not to look at the body she hadn't seen for almost thirteen years. The tanned skin that looked the same as she last remembered – time's mark was only that it added more maturity to each and every muscle. _Like fine wine._ He aged quite gracefully, she thought.

"What can I say…" Lauren spoke arrogantly. "My Daddy was trained by Navy SEALS." She finished which only created an awkward aura between both he and Jill.

Carlos smiled caustically at the mention of the father. Jill recognized it and knew that it would be the weapon he'd used to taunt her later.

"Well Scarlet…we better be making our way back to the room…we should probably get all cleaned up before dinner…" she mentioned.

"That reminds me…I'm having a feast at my house tonight, the two of you should join me."

"Oh I don't want to intrude…besides, I kinda promised Lauren we'd try something native tonight anyway."

"C'mon…trust me…you'll be in for a real treat, Jill. And it's on me."

"Let's do it mommy!"

Jill was hesitant at first, even avoiding eye contact with him however the small request from Lauren helped to solidify the decision that she had already made.

"What time shall we be there?"

"What does it say?"

"50 miles west of Kalaheo. Hibiscus Road to Amarillo Trail, make a right on Amarillo, take that to Ke'e Road where you will make a soft left…"

"And what else?"

"That's all it says."

Lauren responded promptly while her trained eyes coursed the likes of a map. She also held a small napkin with directions vaguely scribed unto it. They were heading straight west from the city in the opposite direction of the resort's location, through the mysteriously ravishing Hawaiian countryside.

"I hope we find it."

The sun was slowly beginning to set while Jill's impatience quickly began to rise as the search for Carlos' presumed living space had seemed almost impossible to find. They had been driving through grassy lands that were bordered by mountains on all sides. It seemed as though they were unreachable at some points - and with that came the horrid feeling of being lost.

"See…Ke'e Road…make a left here…" Lauren pointed out after checking both the sign and the instructions.

"It's about time…we've been on the same road for almost 2 hours…."

Jill obeyed and noticed that they had made a turn into a very dark and narrow path. She turned on the headlights of the rental car that she had lucked into getting on behalf of Charles, and proceeded down the dreary lane.

"I don't know about this Scarlet…are you sure this was the right road?"

"How am I supposed to know? He's _your _friend…shouldn't _you_ know where he lives anyway?"

"Not this time smart-_ass_assin…" Jill smiled. "I'm just as clueless as you…"

They proceeded through the tree-covered alley until they reached a sharp turn that overlooked a vast valley of more trees. Breathtaking, nonetheless. Lauren stared at the sunset as it left behind only a faint orange band over the horizon. The rest of the sky was heavily adorned by curtains of dark blue and pink clouds.

"When are we gonna get there Mommy?"

After hearing no response she turned to face Jill and after feeling the car come to halt she faced the windshield. Her eyes focused on a colossal building designed mostly of Spanish-Colonial architecture.

"I think we're here." Jill looked down at the address on the instruction sheet and then her eyes focused onto the numbers nailed to the top of the entrance foyer.

There was a small torch anchored beside it so as the numbers could easily be read now that it was dusk.

The two approached the terrace - it was composed of stone and was supported by huge columns. The front door was immaculate all in its own and looked as though the carpenter had to use an entire tree to create it - a beautiful crystal block of glass sat in the very center and there were small fractured images etched onto the surface.

Jill gave the doorbell a soft push.

"He lives here by himself?" Lauren asked.

The door opened seconds later revealing a middle-aged woman. She was short in stature and walked as though her right leg had caused her great pain. She smiled warmly at them both before speaking in a thick accent as though it were of no bother to her.

"You must be Jill and Lauren…it's so nice to finally meet you. Come in!"

Jill flashed a sincere smile before properly greeting the woman.

"Hi, and you are?" She extended a hand at the woman who stood at least three heads shorter.

"Doria, it's very nice to finally meet you." She responded while gazing over at Lauren.

She realized the girl had been looking at her attentively.

_Finally? _Jill thought.

"I bet you like candy don't you?" she lowered her stature so that she was close to eye level with Lauren.

"Yes, I do." She replied while releasing her grip from Jill's hand. She looked up at her mother with inquiring eyes in hopes to be allowed such privilege before dinner.

"Yeah, it's ok." Jill smiled mentioning to both she and Doria.

At first notice, she didn't realize how massive the room was, in fact it wasn't a room at all – it was merely the foyer that bridged the entrance to the rest of the mansion. They moved along through several corridors until they reached the massive kitchen. A stainless steel industrial sized stove and chef's table occupied the center island - there were several pots and pans that sat on the eyes upon the gas stove and on the countertop sat a cutting board that still held slices of eggplant alongside a sharp knife. The aroma was very delightful, almost gratifying as it drove wonder in both Lauren and Jill's mind of its source.

"May I ask where that is coming from?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise…but what the hell," Doria said while looking at Lauren.

"It's a dish native to the Big Island…roasted hog, with baby corn and a succulent pineapple and eggplant sauce. I'm also grilling some asparagus and zucchini for the side."

Jill was slightly embarrassed after hearing a gripe within her stomach – both she and Lauren were salivating from the description alone. They were very eager to try something different – they both had enough of lasagna.

"That sounds _and_ smells really good." Lauren commented.

"Why thank you." Doria replied while searching through a cupboard full of kilner jars.

She removed one that had been filled with small cream-colored squares that had been wrapped neatly with wax paper. She gave one to Lauren and offered another to Jill.

"Its coconut, almond, and pineapple candy…it's homemade."

It was apparent that Lauren had become instantly addicted.

"This has to be the best candy I have ever tasted in my life." Jill commented honestly.

"I'm glad you like it - help yourself if ever you want more. I try to keep them away from my daughter but she always seems to find them."

Jill felt a little perturbed (although she didn't want to admit it) after running the thought of this woman being perhaps his life partner and with a child, through her head. Their attention was disrupted at the entrance of a young presence.

"Here's my girl now…" Doria met eyes with the girl as she fully entered the kitchen.

"Jill, Lauren, this is Celia. Celia, say hi to our guests."

Celia waved behind a delicate smile - she was a beautiful girl and looked to be around the same age as Lauren. Her shyness was overshadowed by her grace - Lauren took notice of this and felt an unusual connection with the girl, smiling each time their eyes met.

"Dinner should be ready in about twenty more minutes, in the meantime how about we tour the villa?"

"We'd love to." Jill smiled.

Doria led them all through the spacious living room.

Jill took notice at the hanging chandeliers that were set to a very mellow setting. They were made of steel that had been painted black and were securely suspended by reinforced chains. The ceilings were high, and composed entirely of wood. Solid beams stretched from the sidewalls up to the center where they offered great support that closely resembled that of a chapel. There were patio doors and massive windows on each side of the room and in the center sat most of the furniture. At the very head of the room stood a tall fireplace, composed mainly of large stones with a sturdy mantel made of solid wood. A fire continued to flicker about although it had been going for most of the evening and clearly nearing its own extinguishment.

They moved along through the west wing and eventually met the rear of the house. Jill was first to hear Carlos' voice although he was speaking in a foreign language. _Italian. _It was recognizable from the few words that she could actually understand. Secretly, she enjoyed the sound of every syllable that crossed his lips. Doria knocked on a door that had been closed. Seconds later, Jill could hear the phone being replaced onto the adapter, footsteps approaching the door, and then suddenly it opening to reveal the ever so striking _mercenary_.

"Done working yourself to death yet?" Doria asked in Spanish.

Carlos looked at Jill, who held a prudent smile.

"Yeah…that was my last business call for the day…" he replied in English.

Only Lauren noticed how long his smile lingered and how willingly her mother embraced it. She thought nothing of it however, behind desire to become closer to Celia.

"Yeah, you say that all of the time. Well, dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes. You think you'll be ready by then?" Doria asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, I just have to finish up some more stuff…" he mentioned before directing his gaze back at Jill.

"How was the drive?"

"It wasn't bad at all…" an intoxicating silence seemed to sweep the air between them, and Doria took notice.

"How about we get everything all set up girls?" she managed to get both Lauren and Celia to fall for the bribe with true intentions of rewarding them with more candy. She smiled at Carlos while guiding the girls towards the direction of the kitchen.

"So…how's everything going with the…business?" Jill wasn't sure if that was what she should call it.

"Same. Nothing new. I was just talking to some partners in Europe. The good news is our ideas are becoming more and more accepted in other countries." He reentered the office as Jill followed close behind.

She found herself gazing over the several pictures that decorated an expensive looking shelf – the kind that are built sturdily into the wall. Next to each picture sat a small trophy-like award. She wasn't sure what the achievements were but she figured they were undoubtedly related to his successes with Azareus.

"Most of those are old. I honestly don't even know why I've kept them."

_Ego boosts._

"What?"

"Ego boosts. You know? It's good to look back at your achievements sometimes - it gives you a bit of confidence." Jill smiled, while approaching a 'wall of windows' that overlooked a vast constellation of trees.

"I have a bunch of articles, some that I haven't had published even, I sometimes look back through them and it helps me with newer ones." She wasn't sure why she brought this up.

"I see…well, how about we boosts are egos somewhere other than here? Would you like to see the rest of the house?"

"Sure." At first, she thought he would make a smart remark about her 'writing articles' – she was surprised he neglected the chance, but somehow she felt that he was still being crude in some way.

The rear of the mansion overlooked a small rainforest that descended towards the edge of a cliff that offered an astounding view of the ocean. A path led from the rear terrace down to the very edge that gave into a three hundred foot drop to the surface of the water. They were standing on the highest balcony of Carlos' home, facing out towards nature and all its glory. Jill was overwhelmed from the beauty. It felt insanely natural. She thought to ask why he chose to move here, but clearly, she noticed.

"I've always felt at home here…I can't explain it." He suddenly mentioned. "I'll take you down there someday." He finished, aiming his eyesight at the path hidden below the trees.

Jill said nothing - instead she looked at him, wondering how he had read her thoughts.

"Dinner is ready." Doria appeared out of nowhere it seemed with the good news.

"Before I forget…I wanted to thank you for having us over..."

"It's no problem, Jill. I need the company." Carlos responded behind those deep eyes and that sincere smile. She felt compelled by his stare - it was one that drove carnal thoughts through her mind. It almost felt as though he were undressing her with his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm sorry, it's just been so long…" he mentioned as the two of them approached the large dining room. "I honestly thought that I would never see you again."

Jill smiled internally - genuinely she felt the same way.

"Look mommy, it's a giant dead pig on the table…." Lauren joked, as though Jill couldn't obviously see for herself.

"No kidding, Scarlet." She mentioned, slightly annoyed - Lauren only stated the obvious whenever she knew something she wasn't originally supposed to know.

Jill figured she probably realized the situation between herself and Carlos – they were 'friends' of some sort – perhaps closer than usual – perhaps in the most deranged and tantalizing way. Lauren gave Carlos the most offensive stare - one that should have raised his upmost concern of her intentions – while she was merely being annoying (like her Dad had told her to be if ever there was anyone who she wasn't wholly sure of).

Thankfully, he didn't notice.

"It'll be much better on the inside…" Doria mentioned as she emerged from the kitchen holding what looked to be a platter full of grilled zucchini and asparagus.

The aroma was overwhelming.

"I hope all of you are starving…this hog weighed in at about 10.5 pounds." She mentioned as she handed Carlos the knife to carve the meat.

Jill gazed at Laruen - through her eyes she gave the unruly 'behave, or else' stare. One that she herself was use to receiving during her own youth. And one she knew would receive the utmost respect. Her eyes then gazed upon the slain flesh as the knife cut into it smoothly.

All elements of the supper where passed around - divided amongst each plate at each accord. Silence seemed to have swept amongst the table as everyone had began eating, leaving only the sound of crackling logs in the small dinning room fire place to fill the air.

"Here's some more candy for you…I hope we get to see you again soon…" Doria spoke as she gave Lauren a hug. She looked at Jill as she was speaking.

"Thank you so much. Dinner was amazing." Jill responded whilst she and Lauren approached the front door of the home thereafter. Carlos was close behind.

She had hoped he mentioned something clever, or anything at all – same as before, he neglected the opportunity. She wanted to admit how uncomfortable she was beginning to feel because of it.

Doria had agreed to lead Jill back into town seeing as how night had fully taken over the island and there weren't any light sources the entire way towards the city. Thankfully, she knew her way around the island with her eyes closed – at least that's how she assured Jill.

"We can finish the interview tomorrow…" Carlos stood near Jill, as she had opened the driver side door. Lauren had already entered the vehicle.

"How did you kno…"

"I figured we didn't have enough time together…it'll be more informative this time…I promise."

"Ok…" she mentioned, wondering how he knew she needed to complete the interview.

"See you later…Thanks again." She answered, suddenly without care.

"Don't mention it…" he winked at her.

Doria set off ahead of Jill and waited for her at the end of the driveway. It almost seemed as though Carlos was standing in the same position, watching as they drove away. Jill veered at the rearview mirror as she proceeded down the long stretch, watching as his reflection grew smaller as she furthered away from the mansion. She let out a sigh of (what should have been) relief, instead she had convinced herself that it was something other than that. It was something that certainly walked the lines of tactlessness.

"What's wrong Mommy?"

"Nothing. I just…" she paused momentarily. Thinking to herself what she should say that wouldn't offend or confuse her dearest Lauren.

"I just miss your father…that's all." although she really did not.

It recently occurred to her just how long a stretch of time thirteen years was and how even so the same feelings can still linger. Those feelings that had been left hidden to rot away with hopes of time abandoning it - the same feelings she ran away from. She missed Carlos, and it took seeing him again for her to realize it. She had grown to love him so long ago and although she left those intense feelings behind she suddenly had become reacquainted with them.

An hour had well passed, Doria had driven Jill to the road that led directly into the city, leaving her to drive the rest of the way – which was only fifty miles due east. Lauren had fallen asleep some time ago, leaving Jill to fend for herself in terms of entertainment. She turned on the radio and was first met with static - she turned the tuner dial and came across a talk station. There was a women's voice speaking about hair care, or something of the like. She turned the dial once more and found a station that played contemporary classical – her favorite genre – if she had to pick one.

_Finally. _

Jill pulled into the underground parking facility of the hotel. Already, she loathed the drive she would have to take to return to Carlos' home the following day - it was much too long of a drive _just_ to obtain an interview. No. It wasn't only for an interview – and she knew this.

Lauren began coughing as Jill gently lifted her body out of the car. She drew a hand along the child's back as she rested her head onto Jill's shoulder. The garage was massive, spanning the width of the hotel and occupying seven levels below ground. It was just about filled with cars, leaving only the lowermost level with the most unused parking slots.

Jill had made it to the elevators that lead to the hotel lobby.

Upon exit, she noticed that the lobby was far livelier than she had expected. There were small groups of kids – most of them probably eighteen or nineteen. Perhaps on a trip before their graduation - the last time to be completely reckless before they go into college and becoming presumably even more reckless. Jill offered a forged smile as she passed the group, after noticing the young eyes she had captivated from every male that watched as she passed.

_Never mind the kid, huh? _Jill laughed while entering the elevators that reached the upper levels of the hotel.

Lauren remained as still as a boulder, and started to feel like one as well. Jill used her free hand to slide the key into the door, and her body to push it open. The only light was of the lamp that was located inside of the living room - it offered enough for her to see the path that lead into the bedroom where she intended on getting Lauren.

She removed the child's clothing and properly tucked her in thereafter. She stood at the foot of the bed and looked on as the child continued sleeping. Jill was beginning to feel as she did during the flight, she was hiding something - a definite guilt. However, she battled admitting to herself just what it was.

"Night, Scarlet." She whispered.

"Where are we going?"

_You're a lost little girl…_

The drive wasn't as bad as the previous night – it was late morning and the sun was nearing its post as noon was approaching. It was clear and ridiculously humid, however it didn't bother Jill one bit as her main focus had surpassed all else and settled upon the completion of her _interview_.

"Mommy!"

"What?" she was slightly annoyed.

_You're a lost little girl…_

"Do we have to listen to this? Daddy listens to it all of the time."

"What, you don't like _The Doors_ Scarlet? What station would you prefer?" she asked while tuning the satellite radio to the subsequent stations.

"Anything but this…"

Jill agreed. The song reminded her too much of Chris.

"You still haven't answered my question?"

"Which was…?"

"Where are we going? Back to Carlos' house?"

"….Yeah." Her voice held almost no emotion.

"Why?" Lauren's voice sounded the same. It was intentional on her part however.

"I have to finish some work…he and I…" she paused suddenly. "We have some important things to talk about." Beyond just the interview…she wanted to know about his life during those years that she weren't a part of.

"Oh…o.k." Lauren replied, dryly.

They continued the drive and eventually pulled into the long driveway of Carlos' villa. Doria had been sitting on the front porch step along with Celia and a small chicken that she had been playing with. Lauren grew excited at the sight.

"Hang on a sec Scarlet, I haven't parked yet." Jill ordered, as she heard Lauren unbuckle her seatbelt and attempt to jump out of the car as it were slowly moving closer to the house.

"Aloha! It's good to see you again!" Doria greeted as both Jill and Lauren approached the porch. Lauren had already ran ahead and offered both Doria and Celia a gracious hug.

"This is Rena. I own a coop - Celia has been taking care of her personally since she was a chick."

Lauren immediately became fascinated with Rena and watched closely as she followed Celia's every move.

"I'm sorry it took us a while…"

"Oh its fine, Jill. No worries. I'm just glad the two of you made it safely."

Right as Doria finished speaking Carlos appeared at the front door. He stood smiling cunningly at Jill.

"I'm assuming you're morning is going well." She commented.

"Yes it is. It's going to get even better now." He winked. "I hope you are prepared, it's going to be an adventure."

She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by it. But she was well aware that he had something up his sleeve and she hoped that it were something good.

"I got your message this morning…and I brought the items you suggested." She was referring to the rain boots, bug spray, and water bottle that he had told her to not leave the hotel without. She didn't question him however, which she could even admit was odd.

"Good." He smiled warmly. Once again the awkward silence found its way back into the situation.

"Right, well girls," Doria spoke to both Lauren and Celia. "We better get going. We have an adventure ahead of us as well…"

Doria looked at Jill whom she figured would look concerned, however, she wasn't.

"Come on girls, let's go."

"We should be leaving as well….there is a lot that I want to show you." Carlos had begun walking towards the rear of the home. Jill followed close behind after watching Doria drive off with the girls.

"Where exactly are we going? What do you want to show me?"

"This _is_ the interview right? I figure it's better to show someone then to explain it to them. Sometimes, words just aren't enough."

They approached a large garage that had been nestled at the rear of the house - it looked as though it were built lower than the house in general. Almost as though you had to go underground to access it.

"We're going to the Hanalei Rainforest. That's why I suggested you bring those things…" he smiled as he opened one of the three doors. They each had a handle so that they could be manually opened from the outside.

She wasn't sure how to accept the fact that he had five different cars – each of them imported and more than likely priced higher than the house itself. He walked towards his beloved Land Rover and opened the passenger door.

"Well…you coming?" he asked, smiling (once again) cunningly.

She smiled, laughing to herself internally. _So this is what you have become…_

She entered the vehicle and he soon after. They set off towards the main road.

The Hanalei Rainforest – one of Kauai's most astonishing secrets occupied at least 30,000 acres of Hawaiian land and offered various species of flora and fauna. The landscape was breathtaking - the trees towered high as skyscrapers and dwarfed the distant mountains. The lush sounds and scents greeted all visitors with humble annotations of its captivating mystery - luring in all those who approached its doorstep.

Carlos had mentioned that the road would end at the 50th mile mark at a town called Lanaki, and warned Jill thereafter that they would be driving off-road the rest of the way.

"It's gonna be a bumpy ride for sure…do you experience any kind of motion sickness?"

She looked at him, knowing that he knew the answer. "I never had motion sickness…I'm surprised you don't remember…" she commented.

"Yeah, I do remember actually...I was just making sure nothing had changed…"

She knew he was making reference to more than just her motion sickness. Ironically, she smiled – taking it as a formal joke.

They had finally arrived.

"Wow…"

"I know…isn't she beautiful?" he turned off the ignition and the two of them exited the vehicle soon after.

They prepared themselves - applying the bug spray sparingly to their clothed bodies and putting on the appropriate shoes for the long hike ahead. Jill put a small backpack onto her back as did Carlos. They smiled at each other, attempting to laugh as they both looked like a pair of scouts.

"This reminds me of my brownie days." She commented, securing the backpack to her torso with two plastic clamps.

"You were a Girl Scout?"

"Nah...It was never my thing, or my mother's for that matter…"

"That's what I thought…It's hard for me to imagine you in those little skirts and berets selling cookies and such." Carlos commented while removing a few more items from the trunk of the vehicle.

"Ok. Let's see: we have a heavy-duty flashlight…" he flipped the switch and noted its intensity.

"A compass…so that we can keep track of where we are…" he placed it along with the flashlight into the backpack.

"Bowie knife…" he pulled it out of its sheath only to make sure its edge were still sharp. And it obviously was.

"You plan on making a kill today with that thing?" Jill asked sarcastically.

"Only if I have to…" he laughed. "I usually bring it in case there are branches and such that block a path or something." He clipped the sheath onto his belt. "But there most certainly are wild animals lurking around in there…trust me, it's good to be prepared for anything."

She noticed that he had also pulled out a compact Smith & Wesson – loaded it and placed it in its holster before clipping that onto his belt as well. She felt a little safer now, she had to admit.

"Anything else we may need to protect ourselves?" Jill asked once more in a sarcastic tone.

"No I think we're pretty good to go…" He replied, shutting all of the doors before finally locking the vehicle. "Shall we?"

"We shall." She smiled – it was corny, or so she thought.

The car was safe in a small alcove just a few feet ahead of where they entered the forest.

"Do you know how the islands came about, Jill?"

"A freak accident, thanks to the Earth." She smiled as her eyes fell in intense infatuation with all that surrounded them. The sounds of the rainforest seemed to overshadow all else, even Carlos' voice at certain points. She hadn't seen such beauty since her time in South America.

"I don't think it was freak or anything. It's just the matter of our planet changing, growing, and creating new life."

They continued walking on one of the through pathways. This one seemed a lot higher than all others, as the valleys below could be easily viewed through the spaces between the vines of the towering plants.

"Here it is…" she could hear Carlos mumbling ahead of her. He had made reference to the secluded waterfall that set nestled within a cavernous gorge. It seemed as though it appeared out of nowhere.

"This is so…beautiful. And it's weird - It's like I've seen it before…" she mentioned as her eyes soared the length of the gorge. It split through the very center of the rainforest and acted perhaps as the main artery that carried the clear waters of the river, at the very bottom of the gorge, through the entire rainforest.

"It's a lot like Venezuela…don't you think?" he asked sincerely.

"Yeah…" she looked at him, once again he had read her mind. "_Angel Falls_, gosh, it's been so long since I've seen anything like this."

"Yeah…I know." He commented behind an equally sincere smile. It nearly frightened her.

She was awaiting a remark that would burn her for leaving him - again, he spoke nothing of it. His silence however, made it evident that he wanted to.

"Would you like to see more?" he asked, holding out his hand towards her.

She looked at it, and then back into his eyes. She smiled and placed her hand onto his.

"Certainly."

It was starting to feel as though nothing had changed between the two of them – almost as though they were once again on the prowl, trying to save the world together. Obviously, it was far from that kind of scenario. Suddenly Carlos began speaking as they left the awe-inspiring Hanalei Gorge.

"The real reason why I came here…to Hawaii - was to honestly escape what _we_ were originally fighting for. People wanted me dead, Jill - the American government to be precise."

She remained silent and continued walking close behind him.

"Umbrella must've paid someone off to keep track of my whereabouts, seeing as how I truthfully was the last remaining member of U.B.C.S." He turned to look at her, and was met with a curious stare – one that he recognized on Lauren's face the night before as he sat beside Jill at the dinner table.

"You see…after (_you left)_ Los Intocables was destroyed…that's right, **destroyed**, I had to keep running. There were headhunters – guerilla mercenaries that wanted me dead – I was worth a lot of money dead, and even more alive. South America became an inferno…slowly ripping itself apart with famine, murder, and disease…Umbrella secretly released the Plagas parasite within the village of our home base – after receiving 'permission' from the U.S. government. So I fled to Hawaii, I was damned-near dying – and that's where Doria comes into play. She used to be a witch doctor on the Big Island and she was the one who truly saved me, it was _she_ who found that flower…"

Jill was still silent.

"I learned from Doria that Umbrella knew fully of the flower's existence - they were even the main contributors to its cultivation amongst the Hawaiian Islands…Haunani was her home…."

"What?" she uttered in disbelief.

"Yeah…they knew that someone would discover the Queens Flower…and they pretty much figured out that their time as a powerful company was vastly coming to an end. So other organizations stepped up to the plate and agreed to keep the secret safe…"

"So they used the flower as a way to keep this ruthless game going on…"

"Exactly. And Doria and I were the ones who would keep the game going…by introducing something that would predominantly end the Plague…"

"But it's over now…there haven't been any reports of a single outbreak in years."

"True. But that doesn't mean that there still can't be."

"Yet you still continue to work for a major pharmaceutical company?"

"If that means that I will be saving lives and maintaining peace amongst the world's health, yes Jill."

Jill couldn't help but to smile. At least he was honest…that never changed about him. It intrigued her, as it did fifteen years ago, on that night she escaped Raccoon with him.

"Here it is…the Queen's Flower." The two of them stood before it and all its glory. It was the size of a soccer ball and rich with color. Its aroma was indeed overwhelming as Carlos had mentioned before.

He removed the knife from its sheath and scored the palm of his hand with the sharp edge. Jill was surprised that he had done it and so swiftly. He still had that swift fury. She watched as blood began to gush out of the cut - he flexed his fingers into a fist and reached out over the flower.

"Watch…" he said calmly while masking the pain.

Jill obeyed, and noticed first that the wound had stopped bleeding and that the blood had already begun to coagulate. Carlos kept it there for a few seconds and then he removed a petal from the flower - he applied it directly onto the cut and kept it there for the rest of their time within the forest.

"So…it really does work… Carlos…this is big." She smiled, while scanning through the pictures that she had snapped of the flower as they continued their trek.

"That's not the end of it…just wait a couple of minutes." He smiled while wrapping his hand, the petal still on his palm, within a bandage.

"So wait a minute…all that stuff that you were talking about in my office, wasn't true?"

"Most of it is…I couldn't really explain it to you fully…I had to show you."

"What if I hadn't come down here? I would've had an article with invalid information…"

Carlos didn't say anything. He looked at her behind serious eyes.

"You knew I was coming…you and Charles must have set this up behind my back."

"We didn't set up anything Jill,"

"Then why did you request for me?"

"Because you are the only person who can truly empathize with me on this…you _were_ there…" he stopped himself before getting too worked up. "You and I experienced it firsthand."

Jill looked away. He was right.

"I found out that you were working as a journalist…"

"From who?"

"It doesn't take rocket science to find people Jill…you just have to look in the right places. No one gave up your identity don't worry. _Jillian Redfield_ just kinda seems strange…and I figured you were using it as cover…"

And she truthfully was.

"Strange…huh?" she asked…although she were sincerely asking herself.

He chuckled, walking beside her.

"That was breathtaking…to say the least." Jill mentioned as they approached the hidden vehicle.

"Check this out…" he mentioned as he unraveled the bandage.

His wound had completely healed - without signs of blemish or scarring.

Jill remained silent, yet her eyes were full of wonder and awe.

"Amazing, isn't it?" he held his hand out towards her.

She ran a finger along his palm where the wound was located earlier. Her eyes returned to his, as they did before – full of wonderment.

"This is what Umbrella kept secret, Jill…"

Jill documented it, without mentioning anything.

"Let's head back…before it gets too late." His eyes focused on the massive incoming storm system.

The system had fully covered their portion of the island and already began to unleash endless downpours of rain. The sky became an eerie canvas, covered in dark clouds and in some spaces some that were discolored from the sun in other places. Streaks of lightening, the length of the road, flashed about in colors that Jill hadn't known to exist.

"It's like a monsoon out there…" she mentioned amongst the soft patterned voices of talk radio that had been playing within the car.

"Yeah…this is the first storm of the season…that's how we can tell that it's already starting to change."

"So what are your winters like here?" she asked, as her eyes struggled to focus through the dense wall of rain outside of the passenger window.

"_This_, basically. Mostly rainstorms…it beats having to shovel snow…that's for sure." He laughed.

She smiled at him warmly.

"Yes…for sure. That is why I love Arizona."

He returned a similar smile.

"Tropical Christmases though…Lauren would love that."

"Last year it reached nearly 90 on Christmas…it was great. But rainy of course."

"But it was 90…I _bet _that was great." Jill spoke as she removed a bottle of water from her backpack. "We spent last Christmas in Seattle…" she suddenly stopped speaking. _Chris wanted to take Lauren on her first ski trip. _

"Really? How was it?"

"It was ok…it snowed…a bunch. It kinda reminded me of winter in Raccoon honestly."

Carlos only looked at her, without mentioning anything pertaining to the lost city.

"Sorry…I don't mean to keep bringing it up…"

"What do you mean?"

"Raccoon..."

"It's alright Jill…there's nothing wrong with memories." He spoke as his eyes focused through the windshield and the wipers that were going top speed. "Sometimes, I like to remember the good parts of that city…winter being one of them. Although I have to say…summer was the best time to be in Raccoon."

"Oh of course." Jill agreed. "…there was always so much to do. Everyone was in such good spirits…there was always something to smile about…" Her eyes had gotten lost within the memory. It was almost saddening.

"Yeah…" Carlos mentioned behind a low voice.

Jill looked over at him and noticed that his eyes were, as well, lost inside of the memory, although they were still focused straight ahead. She studied the rest of his body - moving her glare onto the belt that still held the gun holster.

"At least we didn't have to use that." She mentioned while smiling.

"Oh yeah…it's still loaded." He laughed while quickly glaring down at it and then back at the road.

Silence swept about them once more, as it did for majority of the trip. However, it was comfortable…almost inviting.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like…" he suddenly asked. "…if Raccoon were still _there_?"

"Sometimes…" she admitted. "But then…" she glared at him once more. "…we probably wouldn't have met…"

He smiled while keeping his eyes on the road.

"Very true. It's crazy to think about it that way…because of tragedy, we met."

"I know. Life is strange…" Jill mentioned before taking another sip of water.

"It definitely is…"

The rain stopped, however the system still hovered over them. Carlos lowered his window and welcomed the humid air into the vehicle.

"It's hotter now…"

"I don't mind it at all…" Jill smiled once more. Carlos took notice.

"This is the most I've seen you smile." He glared over at her. "…ever."

Jill laughed. "I know…I guess there is so much to be happy about now."

"Like what?"

"Being in Hawaii, for one. Seeing the Hanalei Rainforest. Lauren's having a good time…and she's safe…and…."

"And…what?"

She paused before answering. "It's good to see you Carlos…" she smiled.

He laughed. "Ditto, Belleza."

She hadn't heard the name in so long.

"Are you blushing?" he taunted.

"Absolutely not." She mentioned, as she turned her face away from him.

"Look, I want to apologize…" the sudden change in mood caused her to turn and face him once more.

"For what?"

"I feel like I came on too strong that other day…you know, in your office…after I took you to the Dome?"

She revisited the time, and enjoyed passing the thought of his lips pressed against hers through the valleys of her conscious. However, her heart felt heavy as they quickly evolved into fantasies.

"Oh…don't worry about it." She mentioned without looking at him. It was odd for him - this wasn't what he expected her reaction to be. "It was nothing…"

The words came out colder than expected.

_That's the Jill I remember._

"It'll be alright…do you still feel any stinging?" Doria was speaking as she submerged a small towel into a basin full of warm water.

"No…" Lauren muttered out amongst emotional angst.

"Don't worry…I've gotten stung by nettle before…" Celia mentioned as she sat near Lauren.

"_Nettle_?"

"Jellyfish" Celia answered. "At least we are taking care of it right away…we had to wait several hours before we could do anything about mine."

Doria removed a small bottle from one of the cabinets within one of Carlos' many bathrooms.

"What happened?"

"My knee was swollen, and it kept getting worse the longer we waited…" Celia mentioned while holding out her leg to demonstrate. "It hurt so bad…I stopped crying after a while – and eventually we got it treated."

"Why did it take so long?"

"Because we had to get back to our house…my Mommy treated it…"

"This is going to burn a little ok…" Doria placed the towel on soon after she spread some of a very strong astringent onto the wound.

"That wasn't too bad…see…I told you." Celia smiled, as she continued to hold Lauren's hand.

The trust between the girls helped to ease the tension that had accommodated the pain from the 3 inch jellyfish sting on the dorsal portion of Lauren's left hand. _The 'good' hand. _

"It's looking nasty out there…" Jill mentioned as the vehicle drove slowly into the driveway.

"Yeah…I guess it followed us."

"How bad do you think it's going to get?"

"I don't know, but judging by the size and density of those clouds…I'm thinking _really _nasty."

It was as though the mountains had given up there title as rulers of the land only to make way for the clouds that poured in dozens as far as one could see. Most of them were of dark grey to almost black pigment, and grew quite ethereal as they accumulated.

"Don't worry…it'll be fine." His eyes held confidence – a certain confidence she had missed seeing. The kind that soldiers held in their eyes - showing the truth of their uncertainty married unconditionally to an esteemed confidence.

She smiled softly and soon noticed that the vehicle had stopped.

The mercenary shut off the ignition and at the same time, a jagged streak of blue lightening flashed across the sky. He turned to look at her with eyes like a wolf staring hot at his dinner. It had been ten minutes and their eyes never broke. It was silent. And the thing that had been burning her all day, she realized, haunted him as well – lightening struck again, and thunder, its faithful companion, followed close behind. It shook every soul and square inch of land below it. Every soul…living or dead. Loving or Hating.

She shook out of the trance. As did he.

"We should probably get inside…" he suggested hoarsely.

She agreed silently.

The door opened and Celia came running to greet the arrival.

"You guys got caught in the rain didn't you?"

"Yep…it's pouring down now…"

Jill's eyes focused onto the car from the doorway. She shut the door soon after.

"I think Mama and I are about to leave…" Celia mentioned as Carlos lifted her into his arms and kissed her gently on the forehead – as he would _his own _child.

"Yes this is true…we should get heading back…"

"Are you sure? The storm is just about here..."

"We'll be fine…no need to worry. I have to get back and close up the coop…I would've done it earlier, but I didn't think it would rain this hard." Doria entered the lobby while holding a small raincoat – she handed it to Celia.

"We were waiting for you guys…Mom made asparagus soup to go along with the leftover hog from last night…"

"There's still plenty left." Doria spoke at both Jill and Carlos.

"Where's Lauren?" Jill asked, concerned.

"She's in the living room, the poor child. She and Celia were playing at the beach down behind the house, I took my eyes off of them for a quick sec and before I could realize it they were in the water, everything went fine until I heard a loud scream. It was Celia…she was running to tell me that Lauren had gotten hurt. I ran over to her and noticed that she had gotten stung by a sea nettle." Doria confessed as she led Jill into the living room where Lauren had been resting.

"Is she alright?" Jill's voice grew a little concerned.

"I'll let you see for yourself." They entered fully. The movie was still playing on the projector.

_Pale Rider._ Jill recognized. It was an old favorite.

"Lauren…" she placed a hand on the girl's head and noted the sudden jilt after its contact.

"Mommy…you made it back."

"Yeah…Doria told me about what happened…how are you holding up?"

"I'm ok. Doria put some kind of ointment on it that made it feel better, and Celia helped me wrap it in this bandage." Lauren lifted her hand, displaying the tight fitted bandage.

"That's good…" Jill mentioned behind a sigh. Lauren looked at her behind confused eyes…she thought for certain that her mother would be disappointed in her.

"You aren't mad?" Lauren asked.

"Why would I be mad Scarlet?"

"I don't know…I…I just feel like I've ruined the trip somehow."

"You haven't ruined anything…I'm just glad that you are ok. That is all that matters to me." She gave the girl a tight hug. "Did you have a good time today though?"

"Yeah…we went back to their chicken coop and fed all of the chickens and the baby chicks as well. We made some more candy too. Then we came back here for lunch and went to the beach behind the house afterwards…that's where I got stung."

"Well Lauren…I think we are about to leave." Celia entered the room, all bundled up and ready for the rain.

Lauren stood from the couch and gave her dear new friend a true hug. "I had a good time…" she whispered in her ear. "No matter what…" she then kissed her on the cheek.

Celia grabbed her hand and disappeared from the living room with her, the both of them running towards the staircase that led to the second level. They entered Celia's room.

"Here…" She handed Lauren a small dreamcatcher that had been tied onto two leather cords. "My mama made it for me…she says it gives good luck and prosperity to those who wear it."

Lauren held it in place while Celia tied it unto her neck.

"It's beautiful." She mentioned, looking down at it as her fingers swept across the spider web weaving, the small amethyst crystal that had been the setting stone and marked where the webbing began. There were small beads that hang down from the hoop, they were all purple – Lauren's favorite color.

"It is a symbol for unity - and purple, my favorite color, is a symbol of royalty."

Lauren smiled as she stared down at it for a long time. She turned to face Celia and gave her another hug.

"Take the bandage off tonight, before Lauren goes to bed. I wouldn't give her a bath or anything until the morning as well…the wound should be fully healed by then. Now, are you sure you remember how to get back to the city?" Doria asked as she and Jill entered the kitchen.

Carlos had met them there, holding Doria's coat as well as her purse.

"Yes, I think I'll be ok." She smiled. Mostly at Carlos. She wasn't sure why however.

"Alright…" a loud roar of thunder interrupted her speech and caused everyone in the room to jump in sudden shock.

"You guys better be leaving now…it's not going to get any better…you should probably make it before the rest of the front comes…" Carlos mentioned as he helped her into her coat.

"Yeah…it'll take us 20 minutes to get to home…Are you two gonna be alright?" she asked.

Carlos looked at Jill, deeply, as he did before in the car. "Yeah…I think so…" he smiled at her.

"Alright then…I will see you tomorrow afternoon." She smiled at the both of them. "Goodnight kids." She exited the kitchen. "Celia!" she yelled while entering the lobby.

Seconds later she and Lauren came running down the stairs. Soon Doria and Celia walked out into the downpour as if it did not faze them.

"Doria grew up in the Caribbean…so this is like a sunny day to her." Carlos mentioned as the three of them stood in the massive doorway, watching as Doria's car drove off from the driveway.

"Goddamn…that soup was amazing."

"She is an amazing cook isnt' she?"

"Indeed she is. What would you do if she weren't here cooking for you Carlos?"

"I ask myself that every time she brings out a masterpiece."

He and Jill manned the dishes although there was clearly a dishwasher to handle the burden. Somehow they both felt the need to labor themselves. It was as though they naturally liked working together.

"So…I wanted to apologize to you."

"For what?"

"I kinda feel like I was being a total ass by not taking you seriously after witnessing the dome. I really think it is an amazing thing that you are doing…it's just…"

"What?"

"I'm just so afraid…afraid… of those things happening again…"

He knew what _things _she was referring to. "I know…so am I, truthfully speaking." He mentioned while drying the last of the dishes, he stacked them into the cupboards overhead.

"But as I mentioned before…it does not control my desire to make the world a better place. I'm still fighting Jill, I'm fighting to make sure that medicine and wellness in general is actually beneficial for the American people…and soon, the entire world….if the universe permits of course."

Jill smiled at him.

"So sometimes…in order to drive the snakes from the pen, you have to jump into the pen with them…" he turned to look at her, behind a cunning smile. He was extremely attractive.

"So with that being said…how about a nice bottle of Marzemino?"

"Uhh…yeah." She mentioned while looking at the stove clock. It was well past 8:30, she was tired and she still had a whole 2 hours to drive before she could even think of getting any shut eye.

_But who could say no to a drink…_

…_(who could say no to him)…_

"Would you mind grabbing two glasses out of there for me…I'll be right back." He walked into the giant pantry and took a sharp left into a small niche that housed a secret door. It opened to reveal a narrow staircase that descended into a quaint wine cellar.

Jill opened one of the overhead cupboards and removed two large crystal wine glasses. She sat them onto the countertop. Her mind wondered to Lauren and before she could control her legs to begin the cycle of gait, the girl had already entered the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing…just waiting for my drink." Jill replied mockingly.

"More wine? Don't you ever get tired of the stuff…it's nasty anyway."

"You'll appreciate it someday…and then you'll understand how wonderful a glass…or two…or three can be."

"Is there anymore of that soup?" Lauren asked as she approached the refrigerator as though it belonged to her.

"Lauren…don't go barging into someone else's refrigerator like that…"

"This isn't someone else…its Carlos…and he said that we can make ourselves comfy…"

_What am I going to do with this kid? _Jill laughed to herself.

"Alright…it turns out I don't have any _Marzemino_…I do have a 6 year _Nebbiolo_ and a 3 year old _Tinta Miuda _that I know you will like."

"Tinta Miuda…" Lauren laughed. "I like how you say that…"

"Are you laughing at my accent?" he asked while approaching her.

"What if I am?"

"Then I will have to…..throw you over my back…" he grabbed her and swiftly lifted her nimble body over his shoulder with one arm. It ironically amazed Jill, when she would normally show discomfort with someone else rough-housing with Lauren. He still had his strength…as was made obvious by the bulge of his bicep muscle.

Lauren let out a loud plexus of laughter and even received a few from Carlos. "Did I hear you mention before that you were hungry….still?"

"Yeah…I'm starving." Lauren managed to speak out amongst a laugh as Carlos had began to tickle her, focusing primarily at the places he knew would get her into submission – the armpits and back.

"I think there is still a little hog and some soup left…we can get that heated up for you."

He lowered her down onto her feet into standing position. Jill grabbed the first bottle of wine – Tinta Miuda – "_crescido em Lisboa_".

"Imported huh?" she asked as the cork made a subtle "pop" as it sprung from the brim of the bottle.

"That's the only way, Jill." He smiled, as though he had mentioned this before to her.

She remembered the words in that exact fashion…in that exact way. The dark liquid cascaded almost like a dream into the deep bowl of the glass. Jill filled both, ¾'s of the way from the brim.

Carlos was busy handling a small pot of soup over the stove top – he had before placed the remainder of the ham into the powerful oven. "This'll be ready in about 10." He commented after checking on the meat.

Jill walked over to him, holding both glasses of the garnet beauty. She handed him a glass.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome…" she focused her hot stare onto Lauren, where it yielded into a more modest glare. "Isn't there something you need to say…"

"Thank you Carlos."

"Not a problem _Princesa_." He smiled at her before taking a hefty sip of the wine. He stood beside Jill next to the counter where Lauren sat awaiting her food.

"Why do I have to go to bed now? The two of you are staying up…"

"Because…" Jill paused for a second, unable to find a good answer. "We need to finish the interview…"

"You're still not done yet?" Lauren's voice held wit that Jill often times found annoying. She answered only with her eyes, the usual stare that scolded Lauren without anything being mentioned.

Jill helped Lauren remove some of her clothing, she pulled the covers back on Celia's bed, and Lauren got in.

"It's late Scarlet…and I don't think this rain is going to stop for a while….just get some sleep for a while ok." Jill smiled, tucking the covers beneath Lauren's chin before kissing her forehead gently. "I'll wake you up if it stops tonight."

"Goodnight…"

Lauren watched as the door slowly closed, she turned her body to face the window on the opposite side of the room. The rain pounded against it as though it were determined to enter – however, it was oddly soothing. She loved the rain. She loved the stars even more - tonight, however, the clouds hindered her from seeing them. She sighed and closed her eyes.

_Goodnight Daddy…_

"How is she feeling…" Carlos asked as Jill entered the sunroom of his kitchen - they had been in there for a while – even before she put Lauren to bed, and like last time he had yet another full glass of wine.

"She's a trooper…that kid…" She returned to her glass and finished what was left. The first bottle was officially done.

"You should open the other…" he smiled at her cunningly, once more.

"You know if I were completely naive…I'd say you were trying to get me drunk." She smiled, revealing wine tarnished teeth.

"And I'd say that you don't mind it…" he took another sip - deeper than before – his eyes remained on her, longer than before.

Her grin gave away her thoughts. _…and I'd say, I'm about there already…_

"Don't worry Valentine…" he annihilated the rest of his wine – as though it were water. "I'll take proper care of you tonight…" he walked over to the other bottle and opened it.

She felt as though that last statement was meant to affect a more profound part of her…the part that she had kept suppressed for the past couple of months. She knew he meant other things.

He poured them both half full glasses.

"…and what about Lauren…"

"C'mon now…she's in good hands. You know this…"

Of course she did.

"You know…I feel reeeeeally bad, because I told her she couldn't stay up because we had to finish the _interview_…" another sip.

"Oh really?" he snickered. "Well…there is still a lot that you and I need to discuss – I don't know if it's what Charles would approve of but…"

Jill sighed behind frustration, it interrupted his sentence. "Don't even talk about him…"

"It still appalls me that _you _have a boss…"

"I know!" she laughed. "…it makes me feel 'normal' I guess. Working again, having to report to someone…" she didn't like the way the end of that sounded. The last time she had to report to someone…they didn't her seriously and she ended up losing everything because of it.

"You are a journalist though…so I mean, you kinda are your own boss…" another sip.

"Yeah…but there are still limitations that I am obligated to carry on my back. My work still has to be approved at some point."

"Hmmmm…" he walked into the pantry once more, this time she followed him.

"What?"

"I know how it is…we will always have someone over us…trying to dictate how things should be done…" he pushed open the door to the wine cellar once more. "Trust me…I know – but what makes us different from them is the fact that we are able to accept what's true. And we don't have a problem with revealing it to the world. Watch your head there, the ceiling's kinda low."

They descended into the cellar.

"We know how to admit these things to ourselves, the truth- which in my opinion is the hardest thing to do. I've traveled a lot, and met so many people but one thing I realized is how easy it is for people to neglect the truth…as though it never existed in the first place. People would actually lie to your face even though you know otherwise."

Jill simply listened, agreeing by only nodding her head. _He is so right._

The cellar was larger than what she expected.

"So how do you deal with it Carlos? How do you turn the other cheek?"

"I don't…you can still save the world, Jill – you just have to use their own weapons against them…" They walked into yet another room. A smaller, dim lit room that housed a great amount of wooden cigar boxes. She knew because it reminded her of her Dad's secret closet in the basement of the old house that she grew up in.

"Do you smoke?" he asked, while removing a red box from one of the shelves.

"Sure…I'll have one"

He was honestly shocked…it used to be quite the task to get Jill to even drink – from what he could remember.

"Things have changed Carlos, I told you…" she spoke as he handed her a cigar.

"Especially after you have a child." She lit the end and carefully took in a drag.

He was impressed…the average person knew nothing about properly smoking a cigar…but she did.

"What?" the smoke emanated from her lips..

"Some things haven't changed…you will never cease to amaze me, Jill…"

"Oh please...I smoked my first cigarette when I was 7. It was my Dad's fault though…he was drunk and asked me to get him a smoke…I wanted to try it…so I got one for myself as well. And ironically…I liked it, even at that age."

He lit his end and inhaled a large quantity. It impressed Jill. How could anyone survive a drag as large as that?

"Let's get out of here, before we really kill ourselves…"

Jill laughed, and followed him as they returned to the first level of the house.

They continued smoking out on a patio that sat adjacent to the sunroom. The rain hadn't stopped. Jill was concerned for the safety of them all and the house itself, seeing as how it was built on the very top of a steep cliff.

"Don't worry Jill, I've survived five hurricanes…we'll be fine." He took one last puff.

"What's the worst that could happen?" she asked modestly.

"We could lose power – in which I have a backup generator to keep us nice and dry."

Jill simply smiled at him – taking another sip of the wine.

"Now I'm getting hungry…" She admitted while standing for a stretch. She flexed her arms and arched her back – she then flexed her trunk forward, grasping her ankles with her hands. He watched her.

"Would you like some more hog?" he asked almost mockingly.

"Although it was...amazing, I think I've had enough pork to suffice me for a month."

Carlos laughed. He could definitely agree.

"You have to try this flan that Celia made then…" He stood up and led her back into the kitchen.

Out of the refrigerator, he grabbed a large platter that was covered with a matching porcelain top. It was the most beautiful china she had ever seen. He placed it onto the center countertop and removed the top.

"Oh my goodness…that looks delicious." Jill commented, while her taste buds had began to reawaken.

"So you do still love Flan. That's a relief."

"Are you kidding me? I haven't had any in such a long time. It's surprisingly hard to find in the States. That is, really _good _Flan."

The fork slit through the creamy custard with ease - she lifted it towards her mouth and held it there for a few seconds. She wanted to gather the sweet scent of caramel. She placed the fork on her lips and slid the piece off with her teeth. She savored the flavor and the delicacy of the custard. It was phenomenal.

"Good stuff, eh?" he asked behind a cunning smile.

"This is the best that I've ever had."

"She's got skills like her mom."

"Yeah, for sure." Jill spoke as she carried on into the indulgence.

She could feel the heat from his eyes – searing painlessly into the flesh of her body as silence surrounded them once again.

"Ya know, I've really missed those blue eyes…"

It caught her off guard and she responded with a sharp stare – as though she were reacting after getting a fist to the face.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist. I guess I'm still mingling with the past…" he spoke while smiling at her.

She felt a sudden surge of heat emerge within her frame. She missed him too.

"There's something else I wanted to show you, Jill." He voice was low and sounded as though it were hiding something abstruse - Jill followed him as he began walking out of the kitchen towards the long corridor that led to the remainder of the house.

They entered yet another corridor this time that ended with a staircase leading back down into the bowels of the house. The basement level was dark and very chilly – it was almost like an underground tunnel of some sort, built entirely out of the cliff's stone – it immodestly displayed the strong foundation of the house. It smelt of the Earth – fresh and musky with a hint of ocean water. Carlos had mentioned that he'd only been down there at least twice (counting this particular time) since he settled. She could judge by the lament in his voice that it was a definite reason for this and that brought about a strange aura – almost death-like – and one that she had found too familiar.

"What is this place?" It escaped Jill's lips as a whisper.

"…another cellar…" It was dry, yet his voice was full.

"Geez. Closest Dungeons and Dragons fan, huh?"

Carlos barely smiled as they reached an end. He had set their primary light source, a battery operated lantern, on the ground at his feet. He reached into his jacket and emerged with a heavy set of cackling keys along a large circular ring – the kind that janitors have.

"Damn…how many doors require keys in this house?"

"Every last one Jill."

He commented sans sarcasm. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable again.

They enter.

Although it was undoubtedly dark, she could sense that the room was rather big in size. The air was stale – lifeless. It was a little hard to breathe at first, she realized, from the thick odor of sealed time. She could hear Carlos moving about the room, _searching for light I guess…_ She was grateful and unfortunately growing claustrophobic.

Her eyes widened after they had adjusted to the sudden flash of the lights flickering on. It was a dingy yellow from the years that it had never been used that eventually grew into a stronger white. It didn't matter to her really, seeing as how her focus had been thoroughly distracted by the massive wall of pictures and newspaper clippings.

The room was _death_ silent.

"My God…" Jill walked closer to the wall directly before her.

There had to have been forty columns of papers stacked from the floor and just brushing the ceiling - they were quite old, she could tell, by the tattered edges that faded naturally into a rustic hue. She approached without his say or permission of any kind. She lifted a small heap and flickered it off of her thumb as if they were a deck of cards. She caught quick glimpses of the headlines – most in Spanish and a few in Portuguese - all of them pertained to _Los Intocables_. She turned to look at him, however she found herself focusing more onto the wall directly behind him. Her curiosity granted her the will to walk closer.

Her eyes scanned every panel – documenting in her mind a very graphic time in history. A time of death and mourning, fear and loathing – a time of running and fighting and never looking back. _A time when the past killed, the present died, and the future was questionable._

"You've kept every last one that we took…"

"Yeah…"

"Since…day 1…." She stopped directly before the wall.

"…Yeah."

_Damn. _

There were at least twelve rows and ten columns of film photographs. _Film. _

There had to have been over _two thousand _in the entire room.

"How did you keep them safe all of this time…" Her eyes lingered upon one in particular.

The foreground displayed a large group of individuals standing within the rich alleyways of one of many rainforests within South America. She and Carlos were amongst them - it was taken during one of their first "scouting" trips. (Where they selected individuals who showed interest in joining the rebellion against Bio-terrorism.) They had just recruited a solid camp of thirty brave men and women before the photograph was shot.

"To be truthful with you, I've found myself wondering that…" he stood beside her. His focus set on the same photograph. He smiled at Jill and moved to the next. "I've just kept them close…that's all I can really say."

She looked at him and suddenly - out of the corner of her eye - she spotted a familiar face. Her eyes shot back onto the wall in unison with her hand as it reached out to touch the photograph as though it were her own reflection. She was young and judging by the look on her face, very torn. She held a small child, as a few others stood near a makeshift "square" in a small shanty-like village. It gave off an almost melancholic air.

She gazed upon another, a tranquil photograph taken sometime during her stay in Brazil. She was standing amongst a family who owned a small roadside fruit market. She could remember helping the family move around the country that day, selling (and eating) delicious varieties of fruit. Wrapped around her waist - the bronzed arm of _the Aztec King_.

She laughed to herself at a thought back to those ancient days when he'd snarl at her for the reference. Upon replacing her eyes onto the photograph she noticed the one beside it were of similar portraiture – and soon she realized that a vast majority of them were.

"I didn't think there were so many of me."

Carlos was silent and it caught her attention. His eyes said more than his lips could – in _any_ language. It was a look one gives when finding something they truly would die for. Oh yes, he _still_ loves this woman. And she was starting to realize it.

"Goddammit, Carlos…" She turned away from him.

"What?" The tone within his voice had begun to flare in response to the sudden downward flux in Jill's mood.

"That was a long time ago…" It was a whisper, yet he understood it clearly.

"I know that. And each day that passes deepens that void" _that dagger that I can't seem to pull out of my chest._

"This is why you really wanted me to come here isn't it? To make me feel guilty for leaving…"

Carlos stood with a blank stare - he was silently succumbing to what he didn't want to admit as truth. He wanted her to not only experience guilt but his dread as well.

He suppressed the urge, although it wanted to spring out of him like a geyser.

"No…I wanted…needed to talk to you Jill."

"Well, this is some way of getting your point across…"

It was working. Guilt had found its meal.

"Look I didn't mean to offend you in anyway…I just wanted-"

"Wanted, what?" She only knew one way to keep him from taking over this argument – offense. "You wanted me to come here, to see this and to start thinking about what happened in South America again…"

"No that's not what I wanted at all…" he was bluffing.

"Then what is it Carlos? What is it that you _really_ want with me?"

"I should be asking you that, Jill..."

Her glare was harsh and full of fury. Yet he had one to match.

"Why are you here? Why did you even agree to do this in the first place?"

"I had no fucking choice, really. It was shoved in my face-"

"Bullshit."

"_Bullshit_?"

"Yeah…bullshit."

Jill laughed while nodding her head in disagreement.

"You and I both know damn well you could have denied this entire thing."

"You don't know my boss..."

"But I know you."

It was so true – she simply couldn't deny it. And so it goes.

"You don't know me..."

"I know you…inside and out, Jill."

He cut a little deeper this time. Now she knew for certain that something was bothering him, something that she had done. His attacks were growing fierce.

"Stop it Carlos. Look I've changed – nothing about me is the same. My priorities and views on life are quite different than before – I am no longer fighting for some meaningless cause."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Her voice bore an aggravation that only acted as fuel to his fire.

"Well then what are you fighting for, Jill?"

_A future._

"What was that?"

"I said a future."

He laughed at her – mockingly. "Right, your…_marriage_?"

"Why do you keep insisting on insulting my personal life?"

"I'm not insulting you at all Jill…I'm just trying to understand it, is all."

"What's to understand about it Carlos, it's my life anyway. I got pregnant and then decided to get married because I felt it was the best thing for-"

"For you, right?"

"No, for Lauren. I didn't want her to grow up in a household like I did. It was hell for me and I **refuse** to let her experience that instability. So what if I married Chris, get over it-"

"Get over it?" his voice was sharp yet its tone remained mild.

She could only look at him, in awe at how fast he responded to the very end of that statement. He looked at her as if she was his child and he was disappointed in her for breaking some high expectation he had set for her.

"Jill, trust me. I've tried to _get over it_. I've tried to get over _you_. Every single day since _that_ day. Eventually my mind eased and I had forgotten about you for a while – you weren't even a thought in my mind until I recently saw your name and then that's when it all came tumbling down. That's when I started to remember everything."

She sighed in aggravation however it was more so submissive air that escaped her lungs.

"…Fighting next to you, being partners with you…it was something that was so special to me – sharing that bond with a person."

"Carlos…"

"All I cared for Jill, was you. And making it so that you and I _could_ havea future. I had prayed that our rebellion would be a success but honestly, I didn't care whether it did or not. Hell, I didn't even care if the world burned - I had you."

"I'm not your _Juliet_, ok."

"You're far from that…you're more, Jill. And I know you won't be straight with me about how you feel but-"

"Carlos, I can't do this o.k." Feeling defeated, she did only what she knew in times where the _enemy _overwhelms you. "I'm going to check on Lauren."

"Running away, as usual."

She froze in her place – _did he just, call me out?_

"Excuse me?" she turned around.

"That's got some kind of coward written all over it don't you think?"

She stared at him in disbelief – she had to reprocess everything he was saying through her mind several times before she realized that he wanted nothing more than attention. He wanted _her _attention. He was deliberately picking a fight. _Like a child. _

"Don't give me that look Jill. You know I'm right."

"I don't know where you get off talking to me as though I am a child and more specifically _your _child – but I highly suggest that you fix it, because this is not the time for it. I am going to check on my daughter."

"Lauren's fine."

"And you're so sure of this." She knew he was.

"Since the moment she got here Jill, she's been totally content. Now when will you relax?"

"You know I'm having a hard time figuring out where you even came from to begin with but more-so why you decided to come back into my life now and-"

"Why not, I figured?"

"Am I a joke to you?"

"Never."

"Good. Because I hardly find this funny."

She was determined to get out of the room and to return to ground level. He followed her frantic dash, continuing to jab at her with words that she had hoped to never hear from him. By the time they reached the kitchen, things had officially gone from bad to worse.

"Why the hell are you treating me like this Carlos?"

"Because I think I deserve to know…"

"Know what?" her voice grew loud.

"The truth about what happened…about why you left me?"

"Oh my god, Carlos. Seriously? You're still that far back in time?"

"When you're heart is broken, Jill – you look at time a lot differently. You stay there at that moment when it shatters…"

She could definitely relate to that.

"Well I don't know what to say ok…I can't even remember that far back…"

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't give a damn what you believe, it was thirteen years ago!"

"But you remember everything that happened afterwards – with _Chris_."

"Envy isn't your color."

"Oh I'm not jealous Jill. Not right now. You are hiding so much behind those beautiful eyes…it's actually breaking my heart…"

"Fuck you Carlos. Stop acting like you know me…"

"You know how I can tell…you can't even look at me for more than a second. The girl that would look the devil in the eye and spit in his face if he insulted her…"

"You are full of it, you know that. I'm not going to revisit a part of my life that I-"

"…That you turned your back on…" he completed the sentence for her, and he could tell that she didn't like it.

The storm hadn't stopped as she had hoped it would while they were in the _time_ cellar and it seemed to pour harder and more aggressive than before. Thunder shook the Earth as flashes of lightening scattered across the sky.

"You are holding a grudge against me? Is that what this is all about?"

He remained silent amongst her laughs.

"I can't believe this. You want to know why I left? I'll tell you. I wanted change. I wanted something different…I wanted…"

Suddenly she paused. What did she want? She wasn't sure how to finish it and she could tell he was waiting desperately for the rest.

"What _did_ you want?"

"I wanted…I needed to get away."

"Why? Was it, me? Was it something I did?"

"No…not really. It's just..." she found herself at a loss for words - her mind totally scattered.

She knew the true reason.

"It's just what?"

She didn't say a word.

"I'll tell you exactly what it was Jill…_that day, _I knew something was different about you - you found out that Redfield was still alive, and you left…" But that wasn't all he wanted to say.

"Look I'm sorry that you seem to have some _beef _with Chris, but I can assure you that is not the-"

"Save it, Jill." He walked away from her, disgusted.

It usually didn't take this long for him to break someone. But of course he had to remind himself of who this_ someone_ was. This was without a doubt an emotional battle.

"Who do you think you are?" she asked him in a demanding tone making him turn to face her.

"I'm someone who loved, no _loves_ a woman who can't stop denying the truth…who can't even admit her own issues to herself….and who is openly living a lie."

"FUCK YOU! I am not living a lie! My life is no lie Carlos. I've worked hard to maintain the good life that I live now."

"A good life you say, eh? Well then, why aren't you back home living your _good _life?"

Jill responded only with her eyes.

"Still not able to answer that one yet I see…" The empty wine bottles were still sitting on the counter where they had left them before their journey into the basement. The alcohol had long ago worn off however.

"You think you live a good life…tell me something, do you honestly feel good about it right now?"

She remained silent.

"I saw it all in your eyes back in your office. You needed this, badly – and that is why you took it without argument."

"Oh I argued."

"Only to hide how badly you wanted this…"

"First you say I need it, now you are saying that I wanted it-"

"Is there really any difference?"

"Yes there is. A need is a necessity - to want is to desire…"

He smiled at her, and nodded – as if she were a naïve child making an ignorant statement.

"No difference…right Jill?" he walked closer to her, closing in like a hawk on the ill-fated prey hoping to flee his deadly talons.

"Don't…" she whispered as he neared her face.

He was right, and she felt giving in would be her only choice. Until she started to think about the girl that slept right above their heads, possibly awake now and hearing every angry word shouted.

"Carlos…that was a long, long time ago. I can't do this with you."

"Yeah, you know what…you're right. You have changed."

She stood defeated, staring at him – her chest ached a familiar pain – heartbreak.

She exhaled and her focus shot down at the floor.

"You know it's a shame, we could have really changed the world together…I know it. And now it's still a burning inferno."

"And you're saying that it's my fault?"

"Not at all. But who knows what the future would've been like had you not left. _The both of you…_"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, it doesn't matter now Carlos, the world is much better than what it was before - there hasn't been an outbreak in years…"

"But that doesn't mean that they don't still exist."

"Is this the basis of your operations? Paranoia?"

"I'm hardly paranoid. You and I both know the possibilities of a sudden stir-up."

"I'm not worried about that!" Anger smoldered her voice.

"Really, well you sure did act like it a few days ago – back at the dome. You looked at me as if you _knew _it was going to fail. That's how I know…there is still a part of you that fear _its_ revival – because you know that somewhere in the world…it's happening. You feel it…just like I do."

She felt the truest remorse at this moment. She had hoped that it wouldn't have been that easy to read her feelings. She couldn't deny the fact that she worried every day since the day it all _started_. It's worse now since she had Lauren and Chris being away currently didn't help at all either.

"You need to understand something - I have priorities – things that are far more important. I am a mother…."

Carlos glared up at her as she said it and the look on his brow showed that he had enough of her rebuttal. Anger had far evolved into something more explosive and the only way he could keep it from erupting from him like an active volcano was to jab her with the sword he had been sharpening over the years of being without her.

"Yeah…of the child that should've been mine…."

She felt lethargic which was attributed from an intense surge of guilt. He had known, _all this time_, why she truly left.

Jill and Carlos grew quite close during their travels throughout South America, and eventually their bond grew stronger. They assumed partnership and stood by each other's side, bearing undeniable trust for each other. They were intimate as well and that eventually ended with an unwanted outcome. One that Jill felt she could not keep - and _didn't_. A few days before she found out, she had also come across a report that Carlos obtained about widespread "survivors" who had been affected by the _initial_ outbreak and who wanted nothing more than to uproot the foundation as well as the tributaries that catered to the world's terror (the original intent of she and Carlos' travels – however that immediately changed after they both realized that poverty was yet another threat and in many ways more devastating). One of the survivors being her beloved friend that she had known since high school and whom she fought with during the incident at the Spencer Mansion – Chris Redfield. She took this as an avenue of departure and left promptly (as Carlos slept) for the U.S. to start a proper search.

Jill lived in Florida for several months after that, working odd jobs to pay her rent and way of life until she finally got licit information of Chris' whereabouts. She was more than relieved to know that he escaped Raccoon before the outbreak – he took her advice to a tee back then and left shortly after they had gotten their badges snatched. He somehow managed to settle in Europe (she later learned that it was possible through Barry's reticent connections), where he had already began planning for an anti-Umbrella commission that would later evolve into a rigid faction. She saved up enough money, assumed a different identity, and left for Glasgow, Scotland thereafter. Their reunion marked the start of a new phase in the fight against Bio-terrorism.

The storm seemed as though it was beginning to ease however the winds were still active, animating the still curtains within the heavily moonlit room. The house was silent and tranquil – a very eerie combination to Jill as she had hoped to leave it behind in Arizona. She walked further into the room stopping before an opened window that faced south of the island. She was mesmerized by the reflection of the moonlight as it illuminated off of the lush accumulation of trees behind the house. She could feel its light penetrating her soul – reading every secret she had deep within herself. Especially the one that she had hoped would somehow disappear from her life – one that she openly regrets and apparently is still haunted by.

She turned towards the bed and noted the silence of Lauren's slumber. So peaceful, so innocent. She knew nothing of the angst that stood just twenty feet away or of the reason behind her mother's tears. And her breathing was sound – something that Jill hadn't heard since before Chris left. She _was _content. Like Carlos said. She approached the bed and plummeted to her knees beside it. Her eyes ran along the angel-like face of the girl - she noted at how closely she resembled Chris – she didn't fully realize it until just now. His nose, his lips and the way they pout when he sleeps. She ran a hand along her forehead, causing the child to shift her body. She then lowered it in hopes to not awaken her - she did not want Lauren seeing her in this current condition. She was broken, more than she had been in the previous months, more than she had ever been in her life - it was deeper than any pain she had felt, for it was strong enough to draw tears.

Crying was something that she hadn't done for a long time, at least since she accepted the decency of her new life. She was still alive after spending years in hell – she bore a beautiful child, by a great man – she was successful - in her mind there should have been no room for remorse of any kind. However, there was a part of her mind that she left unattended. A part that she ignored and left in the dark where she hoped it would fade into nothing. And suddenly she began feeling as she did on the plane – however this time she understood why she felt the greatest sorrow as her eyes lingered upon her child.

She battled the same _decision _after finding out of her pregnancy with Lauren. Only then, she had an epiphany that taught her the lifesaving affects of moral decisions and that although she looked at herself as a person who fought to save lives, defeating her own seed would eliminate all the good she had ever done and make invalid all of the operations that she had taken part of as well the very purpose of why they were put into action in the first place. She couldn't bring her heart to do something so horrible to Chris, although at that time he didn't know, still - she had done it once to _another_, and she knew karma would eventually catch up with her. And it certainly has.

Jill lowered her head unto the bed, her arms cradled around to hide the intense grief that took over her being. She wasn't sure if Lauren could hear and at this point she did not care. She needed to let out all of the emotions she had kept locked away – she needed a release. And now she felt was the right time. She lifted her head and was relieved to see Lauren's eyes still at a close. Her arm stretched out towards Lauren and her fingers traced the soft edges of her small hand. She felt horrible admitting to herself that she had more love for her now than she ever had.

_What kind of person am I? _

Eventually, the tears came to an end. She was no longer overwhelmed with sorrow – yet guilt somehow still had its grip around her – it wasn't as firm as before however. She stood to her feet – ready to move on with life. She felt she had finally made peace with her past. She pressed her lips firmly against Lauren's head, keeping them there for more than a second - absorbing the warmth – _the life_ – that erupted from her resting soul.

The house had taken heed to an unspoken darkness- chilling and death defying. Raindrops returned and grew only to maintain a steady fall – not nearly as powerful as its wrath earlier. Lightening flashed across the sky, as it had been doing the entire evening however, thunder did not follow. The moon peaked through several clouds, illuminating the very edges where they met – the stars however, were covered by the dense blanket of precipitation. A slow wind rolled across the land and its air was cool and somewhat inviting, then suddenly – a disperse of heated air would rush clumsily behind it.

Smoke emitted from a cigarette that had just been lit for the first time as well from the nostrils of a wondering soul that had long ago burnt out. A soul that was empty, amongst a new life full of wealth. A soul that had been left alone, like the ocean that span the entire length of the horizon. Water crashing against the rocks below the cliff was all that this lifeless soul could care to recognize for it symbolized some form of tranquility that he had been searching for his entire life. And just when he thought he found it, he let it slip away.

Carlos sighed behind the thought, frustrated. He hated feeling this way – even more he hated feeling this way for someone who refused to admit and apologize for the hurt they had caused. _She's selfish._ He thought. _Selfish and foolish. _It was as though he were a child in kindergarten, complaining about another child that refused to share the crayons with him. He laughed. Feeling foolish himself for thinking such things - he kept reminding himself that it was well over thirteen years ago – too long of a time to nestle a grudge. Especially considering how much he actually cared for her and this is what fed to his anger. He loved her, with the deepest passion. Deeper than he had ever believed he could go with another person. And at the same time…he couldn't blame her for leaving.

_Maybe, I pushed her away…_

All he had been thinking about was the first time he met her and how he instantly became intrigued. She was as tough as they come, more courageous than any _person_ he had known at that time - her fear only fed her wrath – just the same for him. And what drove the arrow deeper - her survival - the mere fact that she overcame the virus and harnessed a vigorous desire to defeat its cause. It sparked a sudden flame within him and undoubtedly opened his eyes to the dark depths of the hellish grimes that flood the Earth -one thing he couldn't help but thank her for, even to this day. She was a force that he had never encountered and he knew without a doubt she was one to be revered. And at the same time he wished he could forget her, if that were even possible. Another sigh before another drag - he exhaled and let the smoke disperse into the atmosphere.

He could remember the first time they kissed, stranded in a small boat in the center of the Parana River after the dangerous hours beyond midnight. It was his birthday. _In the homestead_. It was the first sign of a change in their relationship as partners and _frankly,_ the last of whatever innocence they had wanted to keep within their personal relationship.

That memory shifted into their first dinner - the first hot meal they both had in _three months. _His mouth watered at the memory of how tender and savory the meat was…and how amazing Jill looked. How nicely she tanned after two and half months beneath the Brazilian sun, the depth of her blue eyes amongst her golden skin and the lips he yearned to taste more so than the meal. This then grew into the heated very _first time_ on a desolate beach in Isla Margarita. _Her warmth, her scent, her taste…_all of these passed through the avenues of his senses – driving goose bumps to stand erect as they did while her fingers glided down the likes of his back in pure ecstatic delight. And he smiled at the thought of each time after that – for they grew even more intense. Then suddenly the memory he once swore to endure suicide if ever revisited, sprung into his mind.

The most intense of their time together was a night that began as this one. The two of them were getting along fine until one dropped a monkey wrench into a box of screwdrivers. Arguments, disagreements where words merely compared to the fury within their debates, often times they grew into more physical bouts of anger - items were often thrown along with ghastly words packed with emotion. Ironically, they never laid a finger upon each other, that is, violently. This night in particular would change that. One small phrase from him was all she needed that sent an impulse to her mind that in turn responded by way of reflex and she realized later, when he glared back at her angrily, that the red imprint on his face was in fact the response of her own rage.

This angered him, immensely. Yet he did not want to hit a woman. He never could. Instead he wanted to do something else, something more gratifying – something that would make her plummet to the ground in defeat. Fighting her involved a different technique. He could remember grabbing her body, firmly – taking her mouth with his own as though it were a ripened melon and she could only respond with her eyes, glazed over heavy with lust. That night, he had her. In every way he wanted her. And she had him - in the sincerest of ways.

He let the cigarette slip from his fingers and into the gaping mouth of the sea.

And he knew the obvious - it didn't take finding the _test_ to figure that out. He felt it back then and in the truest way…he wanted it. He had no idea how to tell her that he loved her – that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her - fighting or whatever it would've been. He was honored to offer his seed to such an amazing person.

_Things change._

He wasn't sure how to give her this at one time – but now, he was glad that he didn't. _Perhaps it's for the better.._. He stared down at his hands, his eyes lingering over the small golden band that still, after thirteen years remain in its garnet box. He looked to the horizon once more, lifted his arm and threw it before himself – once and for all releasing the height of his woe.

"No…I don't care what time it is, Charles. I want to leave tomorrow." The voice was angry and very distressed.

"_I'm not getting you an emergency flight out, Jill. What is the problem anyway…you've only got two more days there_..."

"I…need to get back home." To him, she sounded like a terrified little girl. For a second it made his heart skip a beat.

"_I'll see what I can do, Jill._" After he sat the phone beside his bed he rolled over and fell back into slumber – saving the request for the morning's errands.

She could feel it. He wasn't going to help her run away from something that she should have settled a long time ago. _Why should he? _She thought. _Running away as usual…_

The thought ran through her mind just as Carlos had said it earlier. It was oh so true and that was starting to become more and more evident. She sighed, tossing her phone in her purse irately. _Why is this happening to me?_ She found herself wondering the entire time.

Lightening fluttered about the sky as thunder scurried between each interval like a clumsy child stumbling over their feet in attempt to avoid getting caught. Jill's footsteps where silent, cat-like as she wandered around the gigantic house - she was looking for Carlos, however she did not want him to spot her first.

"Looks like the power's down…" Carlos spoke from behind, however what made her turn to face him was the sound of the flickering light switch.

_Blackout. _

"I don't think the storm's come to an end either…" He walked further into the house. Jill remained silent, watching him with eyes full of regret.

He stood beside the fireplace, leaning his head against the mantel. It was silent for precisely twenty seconds before he gathered enough courage to speak. She counted.

"I don't hate you, Jill." He turned to her and paused, with forgiving eyes. "So you can stop thinking it." The arrogance within his voice made it seem trivial, however she knew it was deeply sincere.

She smiled at him.

"But…I stand on what I meant…"

Her smile suddenly subsided into an emotionless frown.

"I deserve to know, Jill."

"Why?" her emotions where beginning to flare once more, this time in the form of tears.

"Why do you even care now?"

"Why do I care?" he was becoming frustrated once more. "Jill…how can you be so goddamn nonchalant about this? I guess you've completely turned your back on the cause…"

"The _cause_?"

"Yeah…life. _Life,_ Jill. Something you've both liberated and destroyed."

"And who are you to judge…who the hell are you to judge?" Her heart was racing.

"I'm not judging you Jill. I'm just speaking what's truth…and that's all I'm asking from you." He walked closer to her.

"No, don't!" she pushed his arm away. Glaring at him behind bloodshot eyes. She inhaled and moved her glare around the room, searching for a place to rest her hot-blooded ailment.

She plummeted onto the nearest sofa, cradling her face. _I'm sorry…_

"Jill…" she looked up at him.

"I wanted to marry you…I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you..."

"Look…I'm sorry." She suddenly confessed. "I am so sorry for what I did to you Carlos. But we have to move on from the past."

"I can accept that…now I just wanna know why."

She inhaled as much air as she could, and exhaled as she began speaking. "I was afraid…"

"…of what?"

"We couldn't have handled a child back then…"

"Yes we could have-"

"No, we couldn't. You know this." her voice was pensive. "Carlos…we couldn't even handle the poverty issue, let alone the outbreaks. We lucked out of dodging that bullet altogether…but it was only erupting then. I knew it would only get worse – and it did."

"So you felt that _you and Chris_ could handle it?" he fought to hold back emotion.

"Carlos, Chris…Chris is very good friend of mine. I've known him for a long time – the last time I saw him, before the outbreak, was one of the worse days of our lives. Our badges were taken away from us – we were dishonored as officers. Oh and not to mention the fact that we had lost majority of our force including our double crossing leader – who in many ways was one of the contributors to the whole thing anyway."

He remained silent, listening to a part of her life that he never knew.

"That day, I told him to leave Raccoon – I felt it in my gut that something far worse was headed straight our way. Our being sent to that forest – _that mansion_ – was not a coincidence…it wasn't the end."

He kneeled beside the fireplace, placing in fresh logs before standing up to grab the matches.

"I wasn't sure if he took my advice or not…I hadn't heard from him, or anybody for that matter, for weeks…"

Carlos waited until she stopped speaking before he lit a long stemmed match, he threw it at the center where a small basin of flammable oil sat and ignited the logs.

"Please understand…I left, because I could feel it happening all over the world – although it hadn't hit South America yet, I knew it would eventually. I'm not gonna lie, I was ecstatic to find out that he was still alive – in so many ways he's…my best friend." She paused suddenly, falling into a trance where she met the face of Chris – smiling at her as he would if he were really standing before her.

"As a fighter, I know you understand – when you feel it's time to move, you don't hesitate. Well, it was _time_ for me. My dad was a Marine, and he was also a jewel thief, and whenever he'd complete an infiltration method he'd sign the blueprint, _Semper Fi_."

_Semper Fidelis. _"Always Faithful." Carlos spoke.

"I used to be fascinated by those things when I was kid believe it or not. But that specific part of them, it stuck to me all of these years. It kind of became a life motto, I guess. I'm faithful to whatever it is that keeps me alive. To the end."

"But now that he's gone…you are bittersweet?"

She was indeed.

"I never truly understood my father, yet I still had a deep love for him-"

"I wasn't talking about _him_…" She knew this.

"It doesn't matter how I feel about Chris…I'm not really worried about it anymore to be honest with you. Lauren is all I care about right now – he chose to leave it behind, which is _his_ problem…" her temper had begun to flare once more at the thought of his absence.

"I'm sorry…" he noticed and approached her, hoping to get a chance to embrace her - to feel her body up against his again.

"Don't be." It made it out as a disgruntled whisper. She lowered her body back onto the couch - sitting so that she faced the fire. She watched as Carlos paced before her - he was debating whether or not he should take a seat beside her.

"So what do we do now?" He asked.

"I don't know. I don't sleep too well during storms, that is, if another one is coming like you said." It was an attempt to lighten the mood – a failed attempt at that.

"You know what I mean, Jill."

She sighed. "I'm not sure…what else there is to do, Carlos."

He turned and faced her and began walking as though an invisible force had propelled him from behind.

"I have an idea…" he lowered himself before her, as she remained seated on the couch. His eyes gazed deeply into hers for merely five seconds that seemed more or so like twenty minutes. He moved his head towards hers and in response she backed away.

He moved in once more and she slipped through his arms.

"Carlos, stop it. Don't make me do this…"

"Don't make you do what?"

"_This._ Don't make me fall for you again…"

"I'm not making you, how you feel is genuinely how you feel. Denying it only makes it worse."

"I can't…" Guilt had melted away and left remnants that eventually formed into temptation. Another _deadly sin._

She wanted to explore that world at least one more time – the world of desire - she wanted to feel the hunger – the need from someone who adored her. She stood by a window that faced out towards the entryway terrace and took notice that the rain had returned. She wanted to experience _that night _all over again – the passion, the heat, the amount of times she met her climax and how even then it never was enough. The both of their bodies intertwined like two pieces of yarn braided together - their sweat emanating off of each other's bodies like steam from a locomotive engine. It was a force she hadn't felt in a while – tonight made her realize just how powerful it was and at the same time how much she actually missed it.

She turned to face him before realizing that he had already made his way towards her. There was deep/heated passion within his eyes, she could tell, as he hadn't blinked the entire time it took him to walk across the room. His focus was dead set on his target. Heat surged her entire frame and the closer he got it seemed the harder the rain had began to fall. She closed her eyes, hoping she'd be back home in Arizona - lying in her bed. That all changed as she felt his lips press softly against her own, and slowly – she opened her eyes allowing reality to hit her with the hard facts. His tongue - warm and strong - made its way through her lips and into her mouth, hungrily. She moaned as her hands ran along his shirt, gripping at the fabric as though it were his flesh.

She could feel him guiding her body backward until the wall stopped them from going any further. He moved his hands along the curve of her back, yearning to feel the skin beneath her clothes. His kisses moved from her lips down her jaw line and unto the smooth lanes of Jill's neck – his most favorite part of her body. He grappled the skin between gently clenched teeth whilst receiving harsh gasps from his prey.

"We shouldn't do this…it isn't right…" Jill whispered out amongst labored breaths. Her lips were hyperemic from the intoxicating kiss.

He ignored her plea and continued to pummel her with his appetite. His hands found comfort on the soft mounds of her breasts beneath her shirt. They moved down and around to her backside, where he gave two firm grips to the thick flesh.

"I've missed you so much, Jill." He whispered huskily – while placing his lips back onto her neck.

She didn't answer and she did not fight as he aimed his focus at removing the articles of her clothing.

"Still won't admit it…" he stood behind her, breathing down her neck as he spoke. He gave a light nip to her ear lobe, driving a stifling electric sensation through her body. He tightly embraced her, placing his hands on her stomach and moving amongst her torso.

"It's all right…you'll be saying it by the end of the night…" he assured.

He had managed to unfasten the button of her pants and in response she rested her head upon his shoulder, groping a handful of hair in exultation. His hand slid between the opened space - absorbing the warmth that he had missed.

"I can guarantee that…"

Jill bit her bottom lip to contain both her words and her pleasure - her body was quivering and all she could do was allow it to envelope her completely. She turned her head around and met his hungry lips, this time with a dominant force as she pushed her tongue into his mouth. A moan was all that emanated from him in response while he turned her body to face his. There lips did not separate. The kiss was long and undoubtedly intense – almost like two wild animals fighting for the same meal. Their hands began moving about as though they were frantically searching each other for a threat of some kind. Jill's hands gripped the bottom of his shirt and began sliding beneath it, reacquainting herself with his trunk that held every toned muscle intact. She broke her lips away, staring at him with ravenous eyes as she continued to move her hands upward, tacking the shirt along as well revealing the bronze skin of his chest and abdomen.

He pulled it over his head and off his body for good before offering her a stare more menacing than her own. He captured her lips once more while holding her hands at his chest - feeling the warm energy radiate through her palms and fingers. He left them there and moved his hands through the strands of her hair before supporting the base of her skull. He then ran his hands down her back stopping at her buttocks giving her a firm grip once more before lifting her body against the wall. He smiled obnoxiously in hopes of impressing her with the strength that he maintained over this long span of time. She smiled at him, lustfully, as her fingers traced the angle of his jaw and slowly made its way to his hair.

She wanted to feel what she had truthfully been missing.

"I want you, Valentine." He mentioned with her body still pinned against the wall.

She lowered her face against his, kissing him aggressively. Upon their break, he embraced her face once more.

"You need to get out of these…" he said referring to every piece of clothing that covered her body.

"We can't do this, not here…" she was nervous with strict dread at the possibility of Lauren walking in and seeing them.

"I know a place we can go…" he grabbed her hand and led her through a door that led out to the rear of his home.

"Out there…you mean, out there? In the storm?"

"…Just like old times, right?" he mentioned with the deviance of a child.

He led her out and noted that her focus did not move from the house. She was worrying too much, he thought.

"She's fine, Jill. Don't worry. I bet she's even dreaming now." He assured.

They kissed at exactly the moment they had found a spot not far from the house - in fact it gave for a clear view of the rear however their position could not be visible from the house itself. Jill was slightly relieved – with heavy emphasis on _slightly_. To further ease her worry, he grabbed her body tighter behind kisses that grew fiercer. She found comfort against the sturdy bark of a palm tree - ultimately, being sandwiched between it and Carlos' brawny musculature. His hands had already invaded her shirt as it had met its fate upon the ground, all before she could even realize. His eyes lingered over her body, _the skin_, the creamy skin he knew he'd never experience touching again – he lunged for her neck and received it without fight. She shut her eyes at the feeling of his teeth raking against her smooth skin.

He was growing antsy and decided to expand his quest - beginning a path of warm licks down the side of her neck and to the valley of her breast, where he spent a great amount of time exploring. He took her flesh into his mouth while his hand began caressing that which his taste could not. He could feel the vibrations of her moans through her skin, as she no longer inhibited them from escaping her mouth. He moved his lips further down her trunk offering the same treatment to her abdomen before stopping at the very top of her jeans. He stood back onto his feet, his eyes staring down at her with an almost gluttonous stare - he then kissed her with a force to match.

"Jill…" he whispered in between the kiss. "This isn't the place I meant…"

They grabbed what pieces of clothing had been removed and together they walked deeper into the quaint rainforest. The rain was coming down in full force and although the canopies of massive trees looked as though they could offer a great amount of coverage, it was in fact the complete opposite. This increased both Carlos and Jill's walking pace. Finally they arrived, soaked from head to toe, at a small cottage. Upon entry she took notice at the vast amount of boxes that had been stacked in most of the furniture-less spaces inside.

"I use this for more storage…"

_How much more storage does one need if living alone in a mansion?_

She didn't feel like saying it aloud as to not chill the balmy air between them. She studied the room instead, noting that it actually made for quite a comfortable living space – efficient enough for even two people. It held a small kitchen-like area with a gas powered grill, a sink, and a refrigerator – however it was not plugged in, a moderate sized bathroom, and a bedroom – equipped with a queen sized mattress and frame. She wondered why he hadn't turned on any lights but her wonderment was soon fulfilled as she felt his body move closer to her - through his pants she could feel his excitement that ached to be set free.

"This isn't fair…" she mentioned.

"What's that?"

"The fact that you still have on more clothes than I do…" her smile was sinister, and it increased the heat within his blood.

He engulfed her lips and her hands reflexively clutched his toned back. She melted as she felt his excitement grow more and more robust. He broke away in need of air as well another glimpse of Jill's gorgeous body - her jeans evoked him to finish what he had started out in the forest. He lowered himself back onto his knees aiming to remove the barrier. He took no time in getting them off and away from her body. She braced herself on the edge of a desk as he slowly slid them down her legs. His rough hands explored the warm flesh – they were another part of her that drove him absolutely insane and they were just the way he remembered them being - smooth and irresistible. He glared up at her, making known, without saying a word, what he intended on doing to her tonight. He stood before her and kissed her lips softly while parting her legs with his body - he used his weight to lower her back flat unto the surface of the desk as he broke the kiss. His eyes narrowed deep into hers and all she could feel was his passion pressing hard against her warmth.

_He has to come out of those pants…_

She secretly loved being teased, and she had once discovered sexually that Carlos was a partner that understood her body language perfectly. He knew how to please her in every way without need of her telling him. For both of them, foreplay was just as important as sex. He reached behind her back and lifted her closer all while fondling the clasp of her bra. With one hand he set her free. She bit her bottom lip while squeezing her legs around him – forcing her hips harder into him. He smiled at her jeeringly with no intentions of giving her what she wanted…just yet. He lowered her back unto the desk although she fought it - he held her in place with his incredibly strong hands.

"You want to fight, huh?" he couldn't have asked it any sexier.

He then kissed her once more, with a tongue that swept every angle of her mouth – _swiftly, firmly, slowly, softly_ – sucking at her tongue and lips like a vampire possessed by the thirst. He was giving her a preview of what she claimed he _mastered_. And suddenly he was back on his knees – he spread her legs further apart and admired her center - the delectable piece of fruit that was hidden beneath black-laced panties. He was dying to taste her. He moved his tongue up the length of her leg, shifting to kisses at her thigh and the closer he grew to her warmth, the more flesh he consumed with his teeth. He avoided her center and moved in the same direction up the other leg.

Her body quivered allowing more heat to emit from her center. The teasing had ceased and right as she lifted her head to look at him, his mouth had found its place on her warmth through the delicate fabric. He braced her legs with his strong arms pushing her further back onto the desktop. Jill tilted her head against the inferior wall, as a moan escaped from her mouth.

Lauren sprung awake after experiencing an apnea – something she acquired as of recent. She began taking deep breaths, inhaling as much air as her airways would allow, just like her father had taught her incase Jill were never around to give her medicine. Soon, air began to fill her diaphragm and her system began to calm itself. She gazed around the room and eventually met her eyes with the opened window nearest the bed. The moon had moved to a higher post in the sky and no longer covered the room with its radiance. It was already morning, she figured. Everyone was probably asleep.

She turned her body out of the bed, sitting there for a few seconds to catch her bearings - she notices a full glass of water sitting on the small nightstand. Without removing it for a single gasp of air, she finished it in a matter of seconds. She took another deep breath and stood to her feet, waiting to see if she would experience any bought of dizziness. She noticed that her sight was beginning to blur and her hearing starting to fade from crisp to repetitive ringing. Lauren slammed her body back down onto the bed - keeping herself from experiencing vertigo – that's all she needed, a concussion – on top of a jellyfish sting.

"Gah…" she said while holding her head over her knees. She kept taking deep breaths – hearing her father's voice repeat it ever so gently.

"_Breathe…just breathe, Lauren…from here…"_ She could feel the strength within his hand whenever he'd lay it over her belly, showing her the proper way of filling the lungs with air.

These dizzy spells where sudden - something that just showed up one day. She was fine at first - she wasn't having any episodes – but then her father left, and then _BAM. _Next thing that followed was her waking up on the girls' bathroom floor at school – not sure of what happened prior. Her school nurse says that she is going through "the change", _or whatever that was._ Her mother was buying into it, or at least she let it seem that way. Maybe that's why she forgot to _leave _the medicine beside the glass of water.

"Oh well…"

Their bodies emanated a scene fit for a sculptures eye, to depict the most sensuous actions done between a man and woman. The storm muffled the screams that exploded from Jill's mouth as Carlos continued to fill her with all the emotion he had thought he lost. Every single inch of him – she could feel – warm and deep inside, revisiting her gratifying lair.

Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her hands - lost within the thick raven locks of his hair. His face was buried within the flesh of her neck and at every thrust it seemed he would bury it deeper. They had assumed a rhythm that both of their bodies responded to in unison.

All the things Jill had been mentally wrestling no longer received any of her energy, as it all went to the passion that currently enveloped her entire being. Carlos would stop only to look into her eyes and once he'd receive her full attention, he entered deeper.

"This…this is wrong. So wrong…" She fought the feeling of wanting to think about her marriage. She didn't want to think about Chris, or even Lauren. She wanted to feel good – _wanted_ – appreciated.

"…but feels so good. So goddamn good…" he responded back, gripping her body tighter.

Like an enticed bull, Carlos lifted her body from the desktop and carried her over to the bare mattress where they spent the rest of the night. Without inhibition, without guilt, without sorrow or pain.

It was the early slithers of the sun that sprung Jill's body awake. She sat up and remembered back to the day she realized Lauren was an early bird - it happened to be the morning after she brought her home from the hospital. Carlos reflexively grabbed her body and pulled her into an intoxicating kiss.

"Morning breathe…" she whispered behind a sinister smile.

"Morning beautiful…" he mentioned back.

"I have to get back to the house, Lauren…"

"She's fine, Jill." He kissed her once more. But he did agree - they would be better off getting back to the house before the child woke up and saw the two of them scurrying in together as though they weren't doing anything inappropriate. Like a group of high school freshman. They clothed themselves and left.

The house was surprisingly silent. Everything had been left intact as it did the night before - even the empty wine glasses and bottles were still sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Jill was relieved for a brief second - however she couldn't fight the spirit of dread that harbored over her soul. She tipped on the brims of her toes up to the level where Lauren was still asleep, realizing it only through the crack of the door.

"My angel…" she whispered before shutting it.

She walked back down to the main level, back to the living room where Carlos had been sitting – rolling himself a cigarette.

"How is she?"

"She's fine. Sleeping like a bear."

"I told you." He turned to look at her.

Jill let out a dry chuckle.

"What's the matter _Belleza_?"

"…nothing." She sat on the couch beside him, her eyes staring out of the opened door of the path that led out to the shed.

"Am I a bad person, Carlos?"

He looked over at her, smiling cunningly while finishing up on his perfectly rolled cigarette.

"You are. As I am." He picked up a lighter from the table. "But you are also an amazing person."

_Because everything in nature has pure harmony in that way. _He had said it once before.

"We aren't human, Jill, if we don't exhibit both good and bad."

He lit the cigarette and expelled the first drag. Jill's eyes traced the course of the smoke that emanated from his nostrils. He noticed and offered it to her.

"Thanks. I needed that." She mentioned after exhaling the smoke through her mouth while looking at it as it sits securely between her index and middle fingers. Although, she was referencing entirely to what he had just said to her.

"Keep it, I'll roll another." He pulled out another small sheet and grabbed a hefty little pile of premium Cuban tobacco. The smell of it alone was enough to satisfy the craving.

"I'll get some coffee started in a bit too."

"I thought I heard you guys down here…" The scratchy voice caught their attention as it crept from the rear of the room.

"Hey Scarlet…how'd you sleep?"

"Like a rock, on steroids."

"What?" Carlos nearly choked on the first drag.

"Yeah…her morning sarcasm, how could I forget to warn you?"

_Redfield's kid for sure. _He thought. Jill's jokes were never dry.

"Good dreams, right?" Jill stood from the couch, charging her body into a full on stretch where she extended her back – elongating her spine and calling attention to the delicate curve of her trunk.

Carlos watched for a brief second and then looked away smiling.

"Yeah…" she remembered they weren't.

Jill clasped her arms around Lauren's frame and held her close to her body. "That's what I like to hear."

"I think I am going to take a shower." Carlos spoke up.

"Yeah I think we should follow that lead." Jill implied.

"You are more than welcome to use Doria's…I'm sure she has shampoo and such…"

Even though, he would give _anything_ to have her alone with him – water cleansing away the heated night, whilst promoting a turbulent morning.

"Thanks." Jill threw a convincing smile but was hit full force by _his_.

"Siempre." He mentioned amongst another drag.

"I think we better get going Carlos, it's already getting kinda late. We fly out tomorrow evening. I want to be well rested for that." Charles had actually pulled some strings and set up the flight earlier that morning.

"That's totally understandable. When will I see you again?" He moved in close.

She glares into his eyes and accepts his lips. She had no answer.

"It's fine." He smiled, taking her into another kiss. "I'll just wait and see…"

He released her from his embrace at the sound of Lauren running down the main staircase, by the time she had made it to the lobby Carlos had already moved to the door.

"Thank you for keeping us warm and dry." Lauren mentioned to Carlos.

"Anytime." He smiled.

"Be safe out there. You don't want to get mixed up with the wrong set of people." Jill said as they were walking closer to the car. It sounded childish but he knew she meant every word.

"Likewise."

"Thank you…for everything."

She meant so much within that statement and he certainly felt it. He lifted her hand upon his lips and gently pressed them against the dorsum side of her fingers.

"Adios, mi amor…"

Jill was inside and the door was already closed before she heard anything.

Like the previous day, he stood there and watched her drive away. Perhaps forever. And like before, she watched through the rear-view mirror as his reflection faded into nothing.

The drive back to the hotel didn't seem as vigorous as the first couple of times – but something was definitely different about Jill's mood. Lauren could tell – however she didn't act on her curiosity.

Out of all times for this to happen, the universe felt it beneficial _now_. A time when Jill has felt the most vulnerable. Two men who had made some of the biggest changes in her life, two men that she loves dearly – both were tugging at her heart as though it were a rope. This wasn't her type of thing – love triangles that is. Those things were always fit for tasteless television daytime talk shows.

The sun had been hiding behind a wide spread blanket of clouds, which didn't seem ironic until they pulled into the hotel parking lot. It had been raining all night, and only the clouds ruled the daytime. Jill felt it was a reflection of what she had been truly feeling on the inside. She decided to pay valet to find a parking space somewhere in the lowest level of the garage after she had noticed a line of white limousines, bridesmaids in lavender, groomsmen in tuxedos with matching trim and a husband and wife that already seemed two sheets to the wind. It was a beautiful party she couldn't deny, yet she felt a little uncomfortable wondering what it would've been like to have one of her own. Weddings certainly wasn't her thing either.

She and Lauren passed the scattered champagne sippers and bar crawlers until they reached the elevator.

"Let's do room service again tonight?" suddenly Lauren asked.

Jill felt relieved - she didn't want the trip to seem like a total waste seeing as they did spend a great majority of the time at Carlos' place. Both she and Lauren were pretty tired – too tired to explore the island on their last night. In all honesty, Jill just wanted to be home.

Jill sat the articles down.

The memories hit her like water to the face from a 500 foot free-fall off of a bridge. Thoughts she never allowed to course her mind since her tainted years as a teenager. She could remember feeling just that a few days after she and Lauren made it back home.

And then, after all of that, she still managed to squeeze out a paper that drove her several notches up the totem pole of respect. Especially from Charles, a person who secretly revered her in the first place.

Jill exited the room at the sound of her cell phone from the bed room. She had left it there by accident when she realized the hefty amount of laundry that needed to be done. Most of it being the fresh batch that Chris emptied out of his…_suitcase._ She kept contained the fact that all of the clothes were never worn – she cleaned them anyway, like a good _wife_ should.

She entered the room and noticed that it was only an alarm warning her that Lauren needed to be picked up from school.


	8. Lemonade

**8**

"So what exactly are you saying, doctor?"

Lauren's head shot up abruptly at the rigidity within her mother's voice - she held a concerned look that was more on the lines of fear than anything else. She sat on the edge of an exam table across from the doctor. He was facing Jill as he was about to speak.

"As I have feared…her asthma has progressed, her results are abnormal. Quite more than I had expected."

"But I don't understand." Jill stood and approached Lauren's side of the table.

"She seems fine to me…she only had a major attack a few nights ago. We got it under control though - I mean she recovered in a matter of seconds." She ran a hand through Lauren's hair.

"It is quite unnoticeable, but someday she can very well have another massive attack – to the extent where not even a nebulizer would help. I don't want it to get to that point. How often has she been taking her medicine?"

"Not often. Only when she needs it." She only gave Lauren medicine when she felt it were absolutely necessary - which had quickly grown shifted into _never_. It was bad enough she had to use an inhaler, Jill thought.

The doctor gave her a chilling stare, the kind that needs no speech to explain its meaning.

"She should be taking those pills everyday. They keep her adrenaline at a healthy balance and narrows her trigger responses."

He began writing something down inside of a notebook behind aggravated eyes. "I'll have to increase the dosage."

Jill wanted to argue – she knew the medicine did nothing - however she kept her cool. She gave him a simple nod before reassuring Lauren, beyond a convincing smile, that everything would be fine. She hated how easy for doctors it was to scare the public into becoming sick, especially children. She remembered being in this position herself - feeling as though death was some sort of monster that hid beneath the bed at night. Sickness only succumbs those who allow it to take over their being. They both watched as the doctor walked out of the room - leaving behind an aura of uncertainty.

"Is it bad mommy?" she asked as Jill held up her sweater.

"No…" she replied as Lauren slid her arms into each of the sleeves respectively.

Jill fiercely exited the doors of Lauren's school. They had spent majority of the late-morning/early afternoon in the doctor's office for Lauren's check up – she couldn't help but feel that it was a waste of time. She often asked herself why she continued to take Lauren in the first place, seeing as how she truly did not trust physicians and conventional medicine in general. However, considering her illness, she knew it would be important to get that second "professional" opinion amongst the belief that it lacked professionalism in all actuality.

She was angry, although she did not show it – mostly because every word that came out of his mouth was like a sheet of glass falling on top of Lauren's head. He drove fear and thoughts of death into the child's mind. It certainly sent Jill overboard – Lauren should not have to juggle thoughts of death at such a young age in her life. How is one to ever be prepared for death…especially a child? However, there was still a great part of her that, for Lauren's sake, wanted to take heed to everything the doctor had said. She didn't want Lauren to become the victim of a bad judgment call.

She felt vibration emit from the inside of her purse. Her hand moved about the satchel until she located the source of the disturbance. She removed her phone and noticed that it was simply a text message.

"Cake."

_What the hell does that mean?_

She studied the message for a long time and noticed that it was from Chris - however something kept her from calling and questioning him about it. It wasn't until she had parked the car at her workplace when she figured out the actual meaning behind the message.

_Ah crap …I almost forgot. _

For a moment she disregarded the agreement that first began as a simple conversation in bed with Chris a few nights ago, which ended with the decision to do something special in honor of Claire's upcoming birthday. They wanted to surprise her the following week - as Chris mockingly revealed, she would mark her 34th year of life.

She smiled while keying the ignition once again.

"Yes…I took care of it. I ordered what you told me, four layers made with different types of chocolate - except dark. It'll be ready early next week - I'll pick it up the day before…"

Jill was sitting at her desk, the headset of her phone attached firmly around her ear as her fingers were pecking away at the keyboard. The computer screen soon displayed a news forum that headlined a story concerning another school that supposedly found traces of cadmium. Unbeknownst to her, it was the fourth case this week.

"I'll be home around 3:30 actually…I have to get Lauren in a little while. Her recital is tonight…did you forget?"

She glared at the clock that hung three inches over the doorframe while standing from the seat. She began walking towards the rear window of her office. She had about two more hours left in the office.

"She needs to be at the orchestra hall by…" she turned and looked at a clock once again. "…6:00."

For a second she was silent. Her eyes lingered about amongst the streets, her fingers traced an invisible line along the frame of the windowsill.

"Yeah, well the two of you won't have to leave until later…she's not performing until almost eight. I have to be there the entire time, but there is no need for you to have to go through that misery."

She was silent once more. She paced slowly around her desk– with responses that summed up to 'mm-hmm' and 'uh-huh'. She then eased her backside up unto the surface of the desk and began wavering her foot impatiently about.

"Of course she's nervous…she didn't want to get up for school, I had to literally do everything for her – you know how she gets…" _moody…unmotivated, like me sometimes. _

She began to fondle with a steel paperweight that had been sculpted into a miniature version of Michelangelo's _David_. Charles had given it to her as an "office warming" gift after he promoted her as a _headliner_. She proceeded into lifting and slamming it back down in a compulsive manner.

"Well, I should probably get back to work…I have a report that's due in…thirty minutes actually…_dammit_…" She stood to her feet and as the conversation began to approach its end she sat back into her seat. She whispered something before pressing "End" on her headset. For a moment, she sat in thought. Her face as blank as the sky on an overcast day, her eyes held a certain gaze that could be undoubtedly recognized by morticians – the death stare. She sighed and tilted her head down, resting it on her hand that sat propped up by her elbow on the surface of the desk. She had found this position too familiar to the point where it quickly became comfortable. Her fingers rested onto the keyboard in unison with a tired sigh that helplessly crept from her mouth.

"…So shouldn't that be considered child labor?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Chris held the door open as Claire walked out - he tightly held a trash bag away from his body so that he would not get the pungent smell of garbage onto his sharp attire.

"Oh never mind…"

A small draft clashed against Claire's slender frame, making the light fabric of her dress cling to her body and the bottom to flutter about. It was knee length and a deep sumptuous tone of magenta - the straps where thin and billowed down into a low cut front. Her hair hung in loose lazy curls over her shoulders and ended at the middle of her back. She looked elegant, beautiful even – Chris thought, as he always did however he hardly mentioned it as way to maintain the authority within their kinship. He could do without the jokes about him _going soft_.

_No one ever gets that one. _Her eyes glanced over her own reflection on the glass surface of the passenger door window. The joke she had learned from an old friend that still lingered about in her head – she got more of a kick out of the facial and verbal expressions given whenever she'd mention it to someone than she did behind the laughter if they understood it. She sat inside of the car, watching Chris through the windshield. He tossed the bag into a large trash bin and walked back towards the vehicle thereafter.

"I can't wait until this is over…" Slowly he slid the key into the ignition without moving it at first. He turned to look at Claire, awaiting her wit.

"Not at all excited to see your only daughter perform huh? She's really good you know."

"Oh of course. I love to see her…it's just not every kid is _Beethoven_." The engine creaked on and ran smoothly.

"Very true. Lauren's one of a kind, though. I'm really proud of her."

"Yeah…so am I."

"What made her choose violin in the fist place?"

"No clue. I looked up one day and Jill had hired an instructor." Chris turned his head to face the rear so that he could clearly see out of the window. The car slowly backed out of the driveway as it hit the dip at the threshold that separated it from the street.

"So where exactly is the orchestra hall?"

"Call, Jill." Chris spoke after setting his slender phone onto an electronic car mount."It's on Main Street…uptown."

"_Hey."_ Jill's voice filled the inside of the car.

"How's it going?"

"_It's going...you're on your way?"_

"Yeah…we are heading towards town now."

"_Sounds good. Let me know when you get about a block away from the Hall. Parking is a fucking pain around here. I have passes into the underground lot – they're giving them to the families of the performers."_

"Sweet. That takes care of that burden…"

"_Absolutely. You guys be safe, I have to get Lauren relaxed." _

"Give her kisses for us. Tell her she'll nail it. See you soon."

"_Will do. Bye." _

"What time is Lauren performing?"

"Jill said 8…" He glared at the clock, noticing that it read 6:45. "It'll take us about 45 minutes to get there…we'll still end up sitting through some _crap_."

"You're so mean Chris. They're just kids…" Claire laughed.

He had to admit, it was the first time he had heard it - in a long time. He liked her laugh, it wasn't too obnoxious yet it held certain spunkiness about it.

"Lauren's obviously the only one that plays good huh?"

"She's one of _us_, Claire…" Chris laughed.

"So you're saying…"

"Yes." They both laughed.

The orchestra hall was the same as he remembered during _Die Pyramide,_ just a couple of nights ago - however they were further from the seats where he and Jill originally sat during the performance. Clingy fingers nervously swept against the keys of a piano, whilst scattered breaths granted stubborn soft stabs from a clarinet. The piece was almost done. Claire and Chris slouched in their seats trying hard to hide their enjoyment. The music ceased – _Finally_ _– _the audience applaudedand the moderator stepped unto stage.

"Now we will have a sonata with violin/piano performed by our two youngest musicians, Claudia Hinsdale and Lauren Redfield."

Jill's hand flexed firmly around Chris' upper arm. _Approaching soccer mom status…_

He laughed to himself while holding the hand that latched tightly onto his already sore bicep. They watched as the two girls walked onto stage - Lauren holding her violin and bow.

They both stood side by side and took the first bow at the center of the stage before approaching their respective scores. The other girl took a seat at the piano as Lauren stood before a small stand. She had trouble adjusting it at first – the malfunction momentarily prolonged the performance and the moderator returned onstage to help with the problem.

_Yep…Chris all over again…_ Claire fought to hold in a giggle – her lips pressed tightly together with betraying dimples that made it apparent.

"Anything to make us wait longer right?" Chris whispered to Jill behind a laugh after noticing her sudden anxiety. He was convinced she was more nervous than Lauren.

"You already know…" she laughed, relaxing a little more.

Suddenly the lights dimmed and a soft light cascaded onto the stage, "Thank You" could be heard amongst the silence. Chris laughed knowing it was Lauren who said it.

The pianist began to play – silky, firm notes slithered their way out of the instrument and all around the orchestra hall raising the otherwise dead who had died sometime during the previous performances. Soon after the forty second mark, Lauren's bow lightly traced along the tops of the strings giving out a soft almost airy sound. As she continued to play, the pianist followed along smoothly – quietly at first and explosive at certain parts. They kept up with each other– which could only be said for a few of the performers that evening as a whole.

Both Jill and Claire recognized the composition for it was the one Lauren had been practicing at home. It was sounded far more complete, now, with the piano. Everyone was amazed. The tension eased amongst the entire audience as they had saved the very best of the young musicians for last. _A sure-fire way of making sure that everyone stays…_Claire figured. It was a smart move on the moderators' part, she thought.

The girls delivered an impressive four minute piece that left the hall standing in applause with mouths gaping in awe. They took their final bow at center stage before exiting.

"That was…" Chris spoke as the applause continued roaring.

"Amazing." Claire finished. Jill laughed at the both of them.

"You did a great job Scarlet. I'm so proud of you. You know Dad and Claire are gonna rub it all in your face tonight right?"

"What about you?"

Jill laughed. "You know I will too…"

"I don't think I did so well…"

"Why is that?"

"I don't know…I just kinda feel like I sucked – really bad. I was so nervous and my hands were all shaky…I even messed up on that one part."

"You didn't mess up…you didn't even show that you were nervous. You came out on that stage as if you had done it many times before. You played very well Lauren." Jill stared at her through the rearview mirror in hopes to get the point across. She reached forward and adjusted the volume of the radio in hopes to clearly hear the story examining yet another cadmium outbreak.

"These things are becoming more frequent…" she spoke almost to herself.

Small automated beeps complemented the news brief as Lauren continued to play her favorite game on Jill's phone.

A beefed up, futuristic version of _Brick_.

"Mommy…I think someone is trying to call you."

"Can you answer it for me?" Jill lowered the volume of the radio.

"It's a text message actually…it's from Carlos!" Lauren spoke, surprisingly behind excitement.

Jill's body froze. Her hands locked uncomfortably unto the steering wheel as her foot shifted slightly heavier over the gas pedal and it seemed as though the words were stuck in the pit of her throat. She couldn't react in anyway other than reaching behind to frantically grab the phone out of the Lauren's hand. However she refrained from doing it – not after knowing how quick Lauren would bring this matter up at the dinner table. She collected herself and then simply asked for it.

"Let me see it…"

"But you're driving…I can open it for you…"

"NO! I mean…it might be serious Scarlet. I can read it, see, we're at a red light."

Lauren carefully handed the phone to Jill who in turn flashed a warm smile to ease some of the tension she had briefly bestowed onto the girl.

She noticed, initially, that he had in fact sent her five messages – all written in Portuguese. She knew what it meant - word for word - he basically explained how grateful he was of her to have spent that night with him back in Hawaii and how he hasn't forgotten about the things that they both shared that very night. How happy he was to have seen her after thirteen years, how much Lauren looks like her, and how badly he wanted to see her again. Jill had to admit, her heart skipped at least two beats. Mostly because she did not want Chris to find out that she had come in contact with Carlos and especially from Lauren's mouth. She had forgotten that it was only maybe a week ago that she had seen him, that morning back at Café Bach and that reunion in itself brought back the memories of the imprudent voyage to Hawaii.

"I'm gonna have to ask you for another favor Scarlet…"

"Like _last_ time?"

Jill paused - she turned around to look at Lauren – guilt washed over her as she realized it had been her second time asking the girl to assist her in keeping something secret.

"Don't worry…I won't tell Daddy." Lauren smiled humbly. "Can I finish my game now?"


	9. Knives

**9**

"Hey…"

"Hey…what are you doing here?"

"Grabbing my mail. It won't take long." Jill's smile only made evident that she knew it was her day off. She had the next _three_ days in actuality.

"Better hurry, Charles is on his way…"

"Shouldn't he be here already?" Jill looked at her phone – _10:28 am_.

"He's two hours behind…and you know what _that_ means…"

_Bitch fit. _

"You are a lifesaver, Lynn."

He only has late mornings after long nights. And his leftover passion always ended up being rage. She had about five minutes until he made his distressing entrance into the lobby with an extra three for the elevator ride up - it seemed to function quicker whenever he'd board.

She entered her office. Upon her desk sat the usual stack, she was never lucky enough to meet the person who delivers the mail as she was always an hour or so behind him. There were only a couple of letters this time. She sat down and turned on her computer – she tossed the envelopes into her purse, saving them for later woes. After the first glance at the clock she realized that three minutes had nearly passed. She turned her attention back at the computer screen - aiming the mouse pointer at the emblem of her Inbox.

**5398 Total Messages. 438 Unread. 318 Junk….**

She refrained from reading any further. She only glanced over the first page and realized that majority of them were from either Charles or _The Chronicle_ online blog. That was pretty much all that she gets and she had no care for them whatsoever. She glared at the base of her phone and noted the light that only flashed when there were voicemail messages waiting to be reviewed. It flashed every day.

'_There are twenty-one new messages…_'

She rarely checks them and once again she decided not to. She sighed while shutting down the computer - taking a hefty sip of her coffee and finishing it altogether. She humored herself, wondering why she even came in the first place. From the other side of her door she could hear the meaningless barks of her boss as he exited the elevators. It kept her still as a stone. He did not mention her name or anything pertaining to her, being which gave her minor relief. A few seconds later she received a page from Lynn.

"Elvis is gone." Her voice held hilarity through the speakerphone.

Jill exited soon after, banking straight for the elevator without question. She tapped the call button and the minute she stepped on, Charles was nearly at her office doors - he just so happened to turn around and saw Jill's face as the doors shut.

She let out an immense breath of relief.

Her voyage ended at the second level of the underground parking garage – where the attendant sat awaiting her presence with a smile.

"Not staying with us today, huh?" He was an older man, tall – rather long-limbed, dark skin, and had a smile ambient enough to warm Antarctica.

"Nope…just wanted to get out of the house for a minute – and I needed to get my mail." She gazed into her bag at the stack. "I got a couple of days off. And I need them…"

"That man is Satan himself. He's driving you up the wall again huh?" he mentioned while pointing at the ceiling.

Jill laughed. "Always. You must be the angel on my shoulder…"

He smiled at her while handing her the set of keys to her car.

"Nah, I'm definitely no angel from above…maybe more one of those that fell on earth – to create both love _and_ hate"

Jill smiled at him. She grew intrigued by the statement.

"There you are my lady…do you need me to get it out for you?"

"Oh no it's fine. Thanks though. Enjoy the rest of your day, ok. I'll see you later this week."

"I will definitely do that. Be safe out there. Give Princess Lauren a hug for me."

She waved at him while walking towards the direction of the employee parking.

The minute she settled into the driver's seat, vibrations emitted throughout the her bag. She knew without a doubt it was Charles, and sighed frustratingly when she saw clarification. From the time that it took to get to her car, he had already sent a dozen of messages asking where she was going and if she could come back for a brief fifteen minutes - which she knew would end up taking the rest of the day.

"Sorry Charlie…maybe next time." She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and turned on the ignition.

An even twenty minutes passed and her phone erupted again. She was hesitant to answer, only thinking of the commands that would be thrown at her about office duties. She answered only after indentifying the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. Redfield?" the voice was youthful and innocent. A teenager perhaps, working to make extra money – maybe to save up for college, maybe booze or drugs, maybe books…maybe to see her boyfriend in prison. Maybe she has a child…

"Am…I speaking to Mrs. Jill Redfield?"

The sound of both names together - its peculiarity as a whole snapped her from her mind race.

"This is she."

"Hi, I'm calling on behalf of Bunny's (Bakery), I wanted to confirm the delivery of your order tomorrow afternoon…"

"Oh shit! You know what…I actually made a mistake. Her birthday isn't tomorrow…it's the following day."

"Oh that actually works out great…we're all sorts of behind today...so that'll give us extra time to finish up on it. Thanks for letting us know."

"No problem. I'm sorry it's such short notice and thank _you_ actually for calling, I've been kind of flustered."

"It's no problem."

"I can actually come and get it, if that's alright."

"That's not a problem at all. Let us know if there is anything else we can do for you."

"I surely will. Thank you." She ended the call and proceeded the drive.

She felt a little bad for placing Claire's special day on the back burner. Though she did have a ton of other things on her plate that had already consumed most of her energy, she still wanted to show some kind of appreciation towards her _sister in law. _

_Geez…it still sounds strange._

Even more strange than the fact that her ring still sits on the kitchen sill – AND the fact that no one has paid it any mind. Not even, Chris. She made it home in less than thirty minutes, seeing as the morning rush period was long spent several hours before she had even set foot out of the house. She entered and was met face first with the overpowering scent of perfectly cooked bacon. As she moved through the living room the aroma became quite concentrated.

"Hey. That was quick."

"Yeah, getting in and out of that place is a goal that I have conquered."

"You want an egg?"

"Goodness, yes. That'll be awesome." She sat her purse onto the kitchen table before walking over to the refrigerator in hopes that some bottles of water were still in there.

"How do you like it?"

She laughed at herself. "On top."

Claire laughed. "Nice."

"Over easy is fine. Thanks." Jill grabbed the last bottle, opening it and then drinking a hefty amount. She still felt jittery from the strong coffee she had gotten at the café before she stopped into the office.

"Don't sweat it. Mind handing me a couple?"

"I'll have two, how many for you?"

"Two is fine, mother goose."

Jill's laugh held structure filled with a hint of elegant vibrance. She removed four eggs and handed them to Claire.

"I gotta say, it's been a while since anybody has cooked breakfast for me. I usually don't even get to eat in the mornings."

"That should be a crime. But come to think of it…I'm not sure if you'd want Chris to make you breakfast…or, food at any time of day for that matter."

"Stop it, Claire. You know he can't help it."

"I know…poor thing. He and I used to study Mom whenever she'd man the kitchen. But I guess he never caught on."

"He just doesn't have the patience for it." Jill walked over to the table and removed the letters from her purse. She still lacked any interest to review them.

"He doesn't have patience for a lot of things around the house."

"Who are you telling…I have to do his laundry, or else it'll just pile up. And trust me - he'll wear something more than twice if he has too."

"Ugh. The only thing he'll pay grooming attention to is his knife and gun collection."

"I don't think he has any of those anymore."

"Wait…you mean to tell me, you're living out here…without protection? Without a _piece_, of any kind? You, Jill Valentine-_Redfield_?"

"Don't make it into a spectacle, Claire."

"I'm sorry…it's just I've never thought of the two of you, _unarmed_."

"Yeah, well…I never thought I'd endure labor for twenty hours. Besides…we do have _a_ pistol. It does get kinda crazy out here. All the trees and vicious rodents running around everywhere."

"That's more like it."

The door bell caught their attention. Claire smiled and had already dropped the eggs into a hot evenly buttered skillet.

"I wonder who that is?" Jill's voice was masked by the abrupt sizzle of the yolk touching the surface.

She crossed the living room, turned off the television set, and opened the door after the bell rang a second time. It was the company delivery boy – most likely one of Charles' children.

"Mrs. Redfield?"

"Yeah. Lemme guess, Charles sent you didn't he?"

"Yeah. He said it was quite urgent that you get this."

He handed her an envelope that had only the emblem of _The Chronicle _at the very top left side.

"Would you mind signing here…so that way he'll know I gave it to you?"

"What he doesn't trust you?"

"Well…"

"No worries…I know how it is." Jill's signature was the same as it ever was, only its slender loops had taken on an edgier, more drafted look - as though she had to get it over with so that she could move on to the next subject of interest.

"Thanks."

"No problem." She stood for a few seconds as he walked away – sighing and inspecting the letter within her hand, convincing herself that she knew exactly what was inside and at the same time lacked care for it. He only sent letters when he wanted something.

She reenters the house, her eyes studying the label. She had a grim feeling it was something that would involve her to sell more of her soul to the _devil._

"The postal service loves you today, I see…" Claire spoke as she stood within the kitchen doorway. She was holding a spatula and jilted it towards her left aiming at the small stack that sat on the dining room table.

"Great." Jill flashed an arid smile and decided again to let it wait until later.

"Hang on a minute; I think you should open _this_ one first." Claire mentioned after plating the eggs and setting the skillet into the sink. She walked back out of the kitchen towards the dining table, where she lifted several letters and pulled one from the center of the pile. She tossed it to Jill.

"Whoa. Am I seeing that right?"

"Yeah, it caught my eye too. I almost opened it but then realized that it wasn't for Chris."

Jill grabbed the clean butter knife that sat adjacent the dish on the kitchen table and easily sliced a smooth seam across the top of the envelope.

"Must be important. Did they nominate you for something?"

"They did…but I didn't think it would actually...happen."

"Go ahead. What are you waiting for?"

Jill simply stood while fondling the opening, not making any advances towards removing the letter. She remembered how long she waited for this day to come – how much care she actually had for receiving the accreditation for being an amazing journalist; and then suddenly she thought back to the time when it longer mattered.

"Here, I'll do it. The anticipation is killing me." Claire snatched the envelope from the jittery hands.

"Killing _you_?"

"Wow…" Claire turned away and began to walk further into the kitchen.

"What…what are they saying?"

She suddenly stopped reading, sat the paper on the table, and as she turned she noticed Jill holding a tempered smile. "You got it."

"Got _what_?" Jill snatched the paper only to confirm what she already knew.

"I guess the Pulitzer folks finally opened their eyes…"

"I…have a Pulitzer?"

_Holy. Shit._

Jill sat down at the table, awestricken. Speechless. Breathless.

"Hot damn. Can I see that again?"

"Chris is going to freak." Jill stood from her seat and began walking towards the kitchen window.

"It says here that you've been awarded for that article you did about the future of medicine_._"

Jill's heart nearly stopped.

"That one is really good. Not as astounding as your early stuff though, in my opinion of course." Claire ran her eyes over the words one last time before creasing the letter and replacing it back into the envelope.

"I read it a couple of nights ago."

Jill was still silent.

"You ok?"

"Claire."

Her heart froze at the solemnity within Jill's voice. She had heard it this way before, a very long _baleful_ time ago.

"That entire article – changed my life."

"I bet, you offered a lot, A LOT, of solid facts and information in there. I'm not even sure how the hell you got it. It was obvious the amount of time you devoted to inlaying knowledge in general, about how the planet has changed and still is changing and how we still have a fighting chance to save it and…ourselves as well for that matter. Even in spite of all the tragedies that has happened. Totally inspiring, Jill."

Jill focused onto the shadows of clouds that glided in herds across the lawn.

"Do you remember that article you found a while back that spoke about the antivirus that saved what we now call America?"

"Of course. The actually name of the person, is still unknown though…I wonder if it's even true at all to be honest with you."

"It is."

Claire's sight froze once again.

"You sound awfully certain about it…"

"There was a cure for it all along. I refrained from using his name, because I didn't want to jeopardize everything that he has done and is still doing. It was Carlos. He was the one that found and introduced it."

Jill turned to face Claire's stunned reaction.

"The same _Carlos_ that…"

"Saved my life? Yeah."

Claire sat back within the seat as confusion flocked the fields of her mind and settled for residence once the ringing telephone caught Jill's attention.

"This wasn't the _one_ I wanted them to choose…" _And I didn't even want it in the first place. _She mentioned before grabbing the receiver.

A few seconds later Claire figured out just what she meant.

_the eagle_.

"Charles."

"And a good morning to you too Jill."

"What is it now?"

"Well seeing as how you obviously had more important things to do today, I took the initiative and outlined your next project."

"Wait a minute…"

"Yes…"

"You took 'initiative'…for me? I _really_ wasn't expecting that."

"Very funny. This is serious. I need you here _sun-up_ tomorrow morning."

"No can do."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I have the remainder of this week, off."

"And who in the hell made that arrangement?"

"You did." She responded behind somewhat of a humored grin. "And what exactly, does this project entail? Because I'm telling you…"

Jill turned her head at the remembrance of Claire still sitting at the table. She exited the kitchen and walked back towards the front door.

"…I am not going on another wild goose chase so that you can add more trophies to your collection…" She had lowered her voice.

"Good. You got the letter. Congratulations."

"Save it. You know I'm pissed, right?"

"Relax, you'll get passed it. Especially after you've had several drinks at the ceremony and complimentary after party…but anyway, that's not why I'm calling. We have serious things to discuss, Jill. I sent the outline by the messenger who should be on his way. Look it over briefly so you'll have an idea."

"He already came by."

Jill sighed; she was never one to pass up a challenge and judging by the sound of Charles voice (which lacked its usual haughtiness) this may be something big. _Promotion _worthy, big.

"Alright, what time then?"

"Jill…Jill!"

An explosion of gunshots - followed by the sound of bodies toppling to the ground – the only thing she could recognize beyond the fury within the voice that yelled out to her. The voice, amongst the darkness and the foul odor of fire and death; it acts as some source of hope and gives meaning to the fight. However it wasn't enough to block out the blood-curdling screams by those they she had fought with for several years. The space was, as well, filled with the gripping moans of creatures that once functioned as normal humans – the sound of their flesh falling off and the ungainly stride of their deadly approach drove a cold sweat amongst her brow and down her spine.

"Jill!"

She opened her eyes yet darkness bounded everything.

"Wake up!"

Suddenly a streak of light faded sharply into view and shattered the dreariness of a seemingly infinite nightmare.

Chris was hovering over Jill's quiescent body upon the couch. She had fallen asleep sometime after dinner.

"Wake Up! It's Lauren. I can't get her to breathe."

She shot up like a catapult – as if all he needed to say was one code that would activate a deadly device and she were the only person qualified to take care of it.

"Her new medicine is upstairs…I forgot about it." She moved swiftly from the living room, up the stairs, and into the master bedroom. The hoarseness within her voice juxtaposed with the deep garnet stain from Merlot on her lips proved just how and why she didn't hear distress or never made it up to Chris' arms at the end of the night.

"I have to say I'm not too thrilled about her having to use these things…"

Jill refrained from getting angry as well commenting – instead answering with swift feet easing down the staircase.

"Lauren…" She called out for assurance. She turned on the light and entered the room after noticing the girl hunched over breathing strenuously with a hand over the left side of her chest.

"Here." She placed the inhaler into her mouth without warning; another hand on her back would help to further calm the child.

Chris could only stand in the doorway. He was slightly aggravated, however Jill did not care.

"Much better, right? That's good Lauren…keep breathing." Jill ran a hand through her muddled hair.

After a few substantial inhalations of the medicine she began to breathe normally - soon after that she fell deep into sound sleep.

"Did you even hear me, Jill?"

"Yeah…I did. But honestly Chris, I don't know what else there is…"

"I just don't believe that this is the only affective way. There has to be another…"

"Well there isn't!" Her voice became weighty. Chris didn't say anything, only speaking with his eyes – full of concernment at her defensive strike.

"Jill…"

"Look…I really don't want to argue about this right now." They returned to the living room - Chris kept closely behind Jill as she made for the staircase.

"Who's arguing? I'm only saying something because I couldn't help but notice that they've increased the dosage _and_ strength within the past month, Jill."

"Don't you think I know that? It's complicated for her. She has a rare form of it – it's hard to control to because it keeps progressing. Or so they say. The older she gets the more triggers she is going succumb to. Of course _you_ wouldn't know that…"

"…And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, Chris." The doctors professed the truth sometime during the time of Chris' absence – Lauren exhibited the worst attack she ever had during that time – more severe than this particular time.

"This one was pretty bad…she had been breathing like that for almost twenty minutes before I woke you…I've never seen it get like that."

"Yeah well a few months ago…she nearly died. Right here in my arms. I had to carry her into the hospital myself."

The gravitational force of her words shifted his mood entirely.

"There are just some things that we can't change, Chris."

_Things are gonna get worse, before better. _Jill sighed at the thought, exhaustively.

He looked at her in disbelief. He never imagined ever hearing her mention words that would eventually form such phrases. She used to be exalted for the immensity of faith she'd have – now he could see that it had long began to leak from within her. She was giving up because of fear.

Chris stood at the base of the stairs, watching the alluring sway of Jill's hips as she ascended.

"Is she going to school tomorrow?"

"Yeah." The answer clashed without delay into the questions' end.

He shifted silently back to Lauren's room once Jill had left his sight. The breaths were silent, almost none existent – he could only tell that she was truly breathing by the gentle expansion of her torso at inspiration. He ran a hand over her head and pressed his lips against the very center, amongst several loose strands of hair.

"_I'm_ not gonna give up on you, kiddo." He whispered.

Jill settled her body into bed, closing her eyes – forcing the vivid image of the time Lauren almost gave in to death's grip, out of her mind. It infuriated her that Chris was unaware of so many things and that he still could not see how his absence has affected the entire home. She truly believed that the sudden change in Lauren's health was solely due to the amount of stress she harbored for being without the man she openly adored more than life itself. Jaded tears completely swamped Jill's sight; she shut them out once Chris passed the threshold. She was afraid for him to see her in such a state of misery.

He lowered himself and moved as close as he could to her body - hesitating at first to touch her – refraining from mentioning a word or even breathing. He felt the need to stare at her for a few seconds, similar to the way he did when he first met her. The very same question that filled his mind then had made its way back into his process of thought.

_What's happened to her?_


End file.
